


Away From the Shadows

by cylobaby27



Category: Justice League, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Batman feels, Cap feels, M/M, Slash, all the feels, superhero love, there are two Bruces, trans-dimensional romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-15 22:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cylobaby27/pseuds/cylobaby27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a mission goes sideways, Bruce Wayne finds himself in an alternate universe without a Justice League. Here, the world is being saved by a soldier from WWII, a billionaire in a metal suit, a pair of assassins who use their training to irritate their teammates, a scientist who is not as mild-mannered as he seems, and an alien-god. </p><p>It's not the strangest alternate universe Batman has found himself in. </p><p>Two men who have lost everything they once knew, one through a spell that transported him across several dimensions and one through a seventy-year slumber, may be able to find a home in each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Apparently Every Universe Deals with Robot Attacks

Bruce dodged another energy blast, diving behind a nearby pillar. The interior of the museum was being steadily demolished as the fight went on. He’d have to drop an anonymous donation for repairs in a few weeks. He drew his cape around him, making sure he was out of sight behind the pillar before leaning out to throw a batarang at his opponent before rolling sideways just before the pillar disintegrated. Above them, the ceiling was beginning to crack ominously, pieces of dust and plaster falling onto the superhero. He ducked behind a large stone statue, reaching into his belt for something else to use against his opponent. 

“Playing hide-and-seek, are we? Is this the hero of Gotham? The Dark Knight? Nothing but toys and cheap tricks. I have true power.”

This new villain had seemed par for the course at first. Late night museum heist for a mystical object. Gaudily-colored outfit. Introduced herself as Mystic Dame. Inappropriate laughter. 

However, the energy beams she was firing were unlike those he had ever encountered, able to demolish three-foot thick rock with barely a few seconds to recharge.

He knew his own strengths and understood his own ability, but this had the potential to be out of his ability to stop on his own. Even now, after years of being on the team, Bruce hesitated to admit defeat, hand hovering over the com button to call in the Justice League for assistance. 

Suddenly, the statue in front of him shattered, and a large chunk of stone collided with his head, sending him to the floor in the pile of rubble. 

His vision blurred for a moment as the pain overwhelmed him, but he fought to remain conscious. He had been in the business long enough to know that even a moment of unconsciousness could mean death. The woman walked towards him, heels clicking on the tile floor. His hands scrambled the push the rubble from his torso so he could reach his utility belt, but there were too many stone pieces to sort through.

“And so falls the mighty Batman,” the villainess crooned, looking down at him with cold eyes.

She held up the artifact she had stolen from the museum’s new collection, an ancient pendant covered in markings that even Gotham’s top archeologists couldn’t identify. “Let’s see what this does, shall we?”

The amulet glowed a bright gold, blinding Bruce as it washed over his body. He flinched, but there was no where to run. 

~

When Bruce opened his eyes, he was staring at a black sky, lying on a city sidewalk. There was no sign of Mystic Dame, but he didn’t waste time in shoving the remaining rubble off of his uniform and staggering to his feet. It was late at night, but there were some cars out, so he ducked into the closest alley. 

He didn’t know what that amulet had done, but had been enough situations regarding mysterious artifacts to know it couldn’t have been anything good. He reached down to activate his comm link, blending into the shadows of the alleyway and speaking in a hushed voice. “Batman to Watchtower. I’ve had a run-in with a new villain at Gotham Museum of Natural History. I’ve been relocated… somewhere. Do you copy?”

There was nothing but static. 

Brow furrowing, Bruce tried again. “Batman to Watchtower. Do you copy?” When he still got no response, he tucked the comm back into his utility belt. It looked like he was on his own. It was a good thing he was used to it. 

He used the fire escapes to scale the apartment building on his left so that he could get a rooftop view. Once he reached the top, he spun in a slow circle, eyes darting to absorb the skyline. He definitely wasn’t in Gotham anymore.

It was clearly a major city, at least the size of Gotham or Metropolis, but there was no tell-tale globe on the horizon to mark it as Superman’s city. Like Gotham, it was on the water, but that hardly narrowed it down. 

Making his way back down to the street below, he located a newspaper. It was still the same date and year, but the paper was one he didn’t recognize: The New York Times. He was clearly still in the United States, but there was no New York City, not one that was such a clearly expansive metropolitan area. Bruce’s jaw tightened as he thought it over. At least, there hadn’t been one in his universe. Clearly, he wasn’t home any longer.

~ 

By ten the next morning, Bruce was in civilian clothing sitting at a computer in the New York Public Library. With only a hundred dollars in cash which he kept in his utility belt for emergencies, he was reserving as much as he could for the moment. He had grabbed a few minutes of sleep on a rooftop, and had spent the rest of the night exploring the bustling city.  
Though the internet here was the same as he was accustomed to, it took only a quick Google search to confirm beyond all doubt that he no longer in his world. Here, there was no Justice League. No Gotham. No Alfred Pennyworth. No Bruce Wayne. 

However, this world had a different group of superheroes. They called themselves ‘The Avengers,’ and resided in one Tony Stark’s tower here in New York City. Bruce skimmed through pages and pages of information, absorbing everything with precision.  
Once he felt he had a basic grasp of the universe in which he had found himself, he began immediately looking into ways to get back home. The quicker he left this place, the better. 

~

Rather than checking into a motel and spending a large percent of his remaining eighty dollars, Bruce decided to invest in some coffee to reduce the need for sleep all together. He had stayed in the public library all day, and was planning on breaking back in later tonight to further his research into transdimensional travel and possibly to steal a few minutes of sleep in one of the back rooms, but for now he wanted to get a hands-on feel for the big city. 

There was a Starbucks on every corner, but after occupying his mind elsewhere by browsing every bookstore he ran across until he could barely keep his eyes open, Bruce found a smaller café a few blocks down which served the same espresso he used back home to stay awake during particularly long missions. The café was small and homey, with dark leather furniture and soothing green walls. Adjusting the backpack containing his uniform on his shoulder, Bruce approached the counter. It was almost ten at night, nearly closing time, so the shop was mostly empty. A man stood in front of him at the counter, giving his order to the young woman behind the counter. 

“Yeah, I’ll have a mocha with a triple espresso shot, extra whip,” the man said, barely looking up from the smartphone in his hands.

“Would it kill you to say please?” snarked the barista, raising an eyebrow at the man. She was young and pretty, no more than twenty-five. Profession said recent graudate, attitude implied no investment in the job. Bruce just hoped she could still make a decent cup of coffee. 

“Oh, Darcy, my love, would you do me the honor of making me a caffinated beverage to hold me over during my long night of labor?” the man replied. “And keep the taser away?”

The woman, Darcy, smirked. “Only because you asked so nicely.” Since the woman was the only worker in the small shop, she went to the coffee machine after swiping the man’s credit card. “Still, Tony, you should try this cool new thing I heard about. It’s called sleep. This is way too late to get coffee.”

“Honestly, Darcy, how rude. I’m not your only customer.” The man turned to look at Bruce, who immediately recognized him as Tony Stark, one of this world’s superheroes. Like Bruce himself, he used money and tech to keep up with people with supernatural powers, but didn’t keep a secret identity. The man was close to Bruce’s own age, lean and dark with an angled goatee and his blue power device glowing through his suit. 

In contrast, Bruce felt practically naked in his thrift store shirt and jeans, outside of his normal costumes; the Batman uniform for his nights, and his Bruce Wayne business suit in the sun. It was disconcerting that neither persona existed in this universe. 

“You clearly don’t think it’s too late to get coffee, do you, handsome?” Stark said, eyes taking in Bruce from head to feet. 

Even without his suit, Bruce could play Bruce Wayne. “It’s never too late for coffee,” Bruce agreed with a well-practiced smile. 

At the counter, Darcy rolled her eyes. “No offense, sir. I just know that Tony’s on his third day without sleep at this point.” When Stark raised an eyebrow at her, she said, “Thor mentioned it to Jane,” as if that meant something. 

And apparently, it did. “You have the highest clearance level of any barista in Manhattan. Probably the world,” Stark replied. 

“’Cause I’m awesome,” Darcy said, handing him his drink. 

“Or because you tazed the God of Thunder and hang out with the Avengers. One of the two,” Stark teased. 

Exactly what strange universe had Bruce found himself in? Was everyone here like this?

“What can I get for you?” Darcy asked Bruce, ignoring the other superhero.

“Triple espresso,” Bruce requests, pulling out a few dollars. 

“Want any sugar with that?” 

“Hey, you never offer to give me any sugar,” Stark pouts, puckering his lips. He is leaning against the counter, sipping his coffee. Considering the bio Bruce had read on the man, he was surprised he had the time to waste flirting with a barista, no matter who she hung out with, but perhaps the superheroes in this world were not as dedicated as those in his world. His world had needed his constant devotion. Gotham alone would have fallen to the dogs years ago without him. Even in his off hours as Bruce Wayne he was constantly making and investing money back into the city. Then again, the rest of the Justice League maintained at least a semblance of a real life outside of crimefighting. 

Maybe it was just Batman himself who was unusual. 

“No, black is fine,” Bruce said, fake smile becoming tense as his thoughts drifted to Gotham. 

How was his city faring in his absense? Had the rest of the team noticed his absense yet?

"So, do you come here often?" Stark asked Bruce, who wondered if the other man knew that his smile was more predatory than seductive.

"I'm new in town," Bruce replied shortly, "and I don't plan on being here long."

“There you are,” said a man as he walked into the coffee shop. 

Stark looked over and rolled his eyes. “We’re not playing Where in the World is Iron Man, Cap. Is your phone not working?”

Bruce assessed the newcomer with fresh eyes. Though he was dressed in a plaid shirt and khaki pants, Bruce recognized his blonde hair and blue eyes from the articles he had found on Captain America during his research.

“My phone was working fine until you switched it out with the newest prototype without leaving behind an instruction manual.”

“The whole point is that it’s supposed to be intuitive,” Stark explained. 

Rogers looked at Bruce, who was standing innocously by the counter, and then said quietly, “We need to go.”

Stark rolled his eyes again and turned to Bruce. “My babysitter calls. It was nice meeting you…”

It wasn't like his name meant anything here anyway. "Bruce."

"Maybe I'll see you around," he finished, before strolling out of the shop.

Rogers gave him a polite nod before following the other man out. 

Bruce stared after them, brow furrowed, before Darcy regained his attention by setting his espresso down in front of him.

"Is Stark like that all the time?" Bruce asked the barista.

She laughed. "That was him on his best behavior," she said.

Though she said it flippantly, a frown tugged at Bruce's lips as he downed the espresso. This was why secret identities were so important-- superheroes needed to be symbols, beyond the norm, while people were fallible. People could be disappointments.

~

Bruce was passing through Times Square on his way back to the public library when the robots attacked. The normal noise and bustle of the large crowd gave way to screams and running. Immediately, Bruce ducked into the closest alley and pulled on his cape and cowl. Even if in this world he had no secret identity to protect, his uniform gave him some measure of authority over the frantic civilians, and his belt held all of his tools.

Unsurprisingly, the robots were unlike anything Bruce had encountered before. However, their goal of mindless destruction was a familiar one, and he found himself leaping into the fray to protect these civilians as easily as he would have to protect his own.

"Find cover," he instructed a young couple after tackling them out of the way of an energy blast.  
He threw a batarang with precision, leaving it to blow up his target and the three robots closest to it as well.

After more than a day in an unfamiliar universe, the simple action of the fight helped center Bruce. His body moved almost instinctively, carefully trained to react appropriately against any threat.

He dodged another energy blast before hefting a nearby manhole cover and tossing it at the robots, conserving his now limited supply of batarangs.

If he was stuck here for any length of time, Bruce was going to have to find a way to build more tools, or he was going to be fighting bare-handed within a week.

The crowd was starting to thin where Bruce was, and he tried to find a way to take to the shadows, but there were still civilians in danger. He was in the middle of ducking an energy beam when the robot in front of him was swiftly decapitated by a rapidly moving cylindrical object, which bounced back into the waiting arms of Captain America.

Bruce had been hoping to slip away from the scene before the so-called Avengers arrived, but it looked like it was too late now.

The other superhero called over to Bruce, "I appreciate your attempt to help, but now we need all civilians to clear the area while we take care of this."

"Thanks for your concern," Bruce said flatly, flipping backwards smoothly so that two of the attacking robots collided together in front of him.

Another robot shot overhead, but this one he recognized. Iron Man's distinctive red and gold armor was more impressive in person, but made him an obvious target as he zipped around the sky. He shot down a row of the dwindling robots, never losing his grace or speed in the air.  
He slammed onto the ground between Captain America and Bruce.

"Who's the new guy?" he asked, voice distorted over the suit's speakers.

"I'm Batman," Bruce introduced.

“Batman,” the man repeated slowly. “Where do you kids come up with these names?”

“It’s not so different from yours,” Captain America pointed out. “And duck.” 

Both Bruce and Iron Man hit the ground at the same time, leaving the supersoldier’s shield to fly past them into an approaching robot, slamming into its center and then returning to its owner.  
“I’m made of metal. Hence, ‘Iron Man.’ What, is he made of bats? Bitten by a radioactive bat? Or just batty?” 

Bruce ignored the jabs, focusing on the oncoming wave of robots. 

It became immediately clear that this team knew how to fight together. In addition to Captain America and Iron Man moving around each other like two cogs in a well-oiled machine, the rest of the Avengers were steadily taking out the rest of the robots.

Though Bruce had read a bit about the Hulk online, enough to identify him as one of the good guys, it was surprising to see the huge, furious being in action. He had Clark's strength, if none of his extra powers or good nature.

However, the only actual alien on the team was Thor, who claimed to be a god. Bruce had met  
enough egomaniacs with delusions of godhood for the superhero's claim to make him suspicious, but as he flew overhead, destroying robots with a large hammer, Bruce was glad he was fighting for humanity.

Apart from that first attempt, Captain America didn't try to get Bruce to back off again. Instead, he took full advantage of the extra body, barking orders almost immediately, which Bruce more or less ignored. 

The robots were ultimately defeated once Stark finally managed to hack into their systems and reprogram them, while still fighting on the physical level as well. Bruce wondered why it had taken him so long.

"Good work," Captain America said, seeming to address Bruce, Stark, and the rest of the Avengers with his statement.

"What to do first with my new army..." Stark mused, flipping open his visor to observe the remaining few dozen robots.

"Shut them down, Stark," ordered a man in a three-piece suit who had just climbed out of a recently-arrived black SUV. Even without the tinted car and clear earpiece, Bruce would have tagged him as government spec ops from the nondescript way he dressed combined with his clear comfort in the wake of a robot invasion.

Unlike the Justice League, which worked outside of human politics, the Avengers seemed to answer to the United States government, which had given Bruce immediate suspicions as to their potential for corruption. Superheroes were not meant to be tools for whichever government held power.

"Like I'd really use anyone else's tech," Iron Man snarked as the robots on the streets collapsed where they stood.

As the rest of the Avengers assembled in the center of Times Square, Bruce became increasingly aware that it was broad daylight, he was beginning to run low on weapons, and he was surrounded by this world's most powerful beings.

"Thank you for your assistance, but it was unnecessary," the suit said, turning to Bruce. "I'm Agent Coulson from SHIELD. You are...?"

"He's Batman," Stark offered as if it were the punch-line to a joke.

He was garnering suspicious looks from various people around him. In their position, he would be suspicious as well, but it wasn't making his life any easier.

Coulson approached him, never losing his calm confidence. "We'll need to debrief you. All of you," he said, looking specifically at Bruce an Stark. Focusing again on Bruce, he continued, "Perhaps we can find a way for you to help us through us, rather than participating as a vigilante."

Bruce was impressed in spite of himself. The agent kept his cover completely, not letting a single hint through that what awaited Bruce was interrogation and imprisonment rather than a job offer, but Bruce wasn't an idiot. He allowed himself to be ushered towards the black SUV, keeping his movements loose and casual, only making a break for it once he was positive he could get away. He shoved Coulson into Captain America's arms, hard enough that the agent hit the shield with an audible thump, dodged a knife and arrow from each of the team's assassins respectively, and then made it to a side street. This may have been their universe, but the shadows would always belong to Batman.

-

Later, when he was inspecting his uniform, he found two separate trackers attached: one black and nondescript, obviously government, and another in flashy red and gold. Bruce dumped them into the nearest sewer and then continued on his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Universes:  
> Batman- This is the Batman from the animated Justice League of America cartoon, pre- Justice Unlimited. That means that while he has Alfred and works with the Justice League (Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Flash, Martian Manhunter, and Hawkgirl), there is no Robin or Batgirl.  
> Avengers- The majority of this story will take place in the Avengers movie-verse.


	2. It's Still Techinically Stark Tower

Bruce was in the middle of handing a newly recovered purse to a young woman when the alley was suddenly lit by Iron Man’s arc reactor and repulsors. The superhero landed heavily beside him, nearly on top of the man in dark clothing lay unmoving on the dirty ground beside them.

"Stick to the main roads from now on," Bruce told the girl, ignoring Stark entirely.

The girl, on the other hand, was looking between the two superheroes with wide eyes. She was shivering, though from the bite in the November air or from shock, Bruce couldn’t say. "Um, thank you."

"Go," Bruce told her, voice flat.

"Have a nice night!" Iron Man added, watching her hurry away.

Bruce turned to glare at the other man, who ignored him in favor of looking over the thoroughly-pummeled man on the concrete. He was probably checking for vital signs, but Bruce knew he had left him alive, if with a snapped wrist and possible concussion. "You really kicked his ass," Stark observed.

"I don't have much sympathy for muggers," Bruce replied darkly.

"So this is what you think superheroes do? Beat up muggers in side alleys?" 

"It's what I do. The world's not always in danger, but someone out there is," he replied.

Bruce took a steading breath when a sudden wave of nausea rocked through him. He wondered how he looked to the other superhero. The night was dark, but with a night-vision lens it would be obvious that Bruce was in less than optimum condition. 

"You should come back with me. To the Tower," Stark said.

Bruce blinked. "The Avengers Tower," he repeated.

"Uh, yeah, that's pretty much the only tower of any importance anymore. And it's technically the   
Stark Tower, just so we're clear," Stark replied. "I can give you a lift."

"Not happening."

"Hey, we're both superheroes here. Unless you're was a secret supervillian trying to infiltrate the   
team. Either one seems equally likely in my book, but either way you're best off at the Tower, am I right?"

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. "So you can lock me up until you figure out which? Thanks, but I'll pass."

"Not so big on the locking people up," Stark corrected. "I was actually thinking more along the 'getting you some dinner' lines. And maybe a razor. Have you shaved since I last saw you?"

"Not hungry." His stomach clenched at the lie, reminding him how long it had been since he’d had real food. 

Somehow, Stark managed to convey his skeptisim through his expressionless mask, but didn’t call him out. "Plus, I wanna get you to show me some of those toys you used the other day. I've got a pretty rocking workshop. All sorts of fun tech."

"Are you a complete idiot?" Bruce asked, exasperated. If one of his teammates had offered to bring a mysterious viglilante up to the Watchtower, Bruce would have locked them both out of the satellite. 

"I'm thinking you kind of look like shit, and you may or may not be a superhero. SHIELD is going to snap you up if I don't, and they'll probably put you somewhere I can't find you."  
Bruce was silent, but he couldn’t make himself leave.

"If you're going to be staying in New York, it might be good to at least know the local superhero team,” Stark continued. “Just a thought."

"I work alone," Bruce replied.

"That's what we all say... at first," Stark said. "Now let's go. I'm craving Thai. C'mon, we both know you could probably break out if I decided to lock you up, so why say no?"

Bruce stared at him impassively for a while, then finally nodded once. "Let's go."

~ 

Bruce could not believe he'd allowed himself to be talked back to the Avengers Tower by Stark.   
For all he knew, the billionaire was lulling him into a false sense of security so he could zap him and send him off to the government. Maybe superheroes here weren't what he was used to, and these men were really not on his side.

Still, at the rate Bruce's research into parallel universe travel was progressing, he may end up needing the help of the superheroes here to help him get back. He was in another world, had rapidly depleting resources and no clue how to return home. He had already scored a job doing construction under the table during daylight hours, but the income from that was nowhere near enough for him to be able to make more gadgets. And no matter how much trouble he was in, Bruce wasn't going to stop protecting people, even if they weren't his.

Bruce wouldn't let Stark fly him across New York, so Iron Man just flew slowly over the buildings that the caped man was scaling and swinging over. Bruce was irritated by the red-and-gold beacon of his location, but he hadn't specifically told Stark not to follow him.

Once they actually reached the Tower, Stark insisted on carrying Bruce up to the lab window, reasoning that the other man couldn't very well take the elevators, even at midnight.

Since the lab itself apparently had impenetrable windows, Stark brought them in through the living room on that floor, and snuck him in through the hallways. Even after having one of his machines peel off his suit as he made his entrance, Stark still made a hundred times more noise than Bruce while trying for stealth.

Bruce didn’t bother asking why they were being so quiet. He doubted Stark had gotten permission from the rest of the team to sneak Bruce inside.

Once in the workshop, Bruce looked over Stark’s work, impressed in spite of himself. This was a man who knew his way around a blowtorch and a computer, like Bruce.

Bruce stayed silent as he scanned the room, not touching anything but absorbing everything. Stark gave him another minute, then said, "I show you mine, you show me yours. C'mon, gimme."

Bruce tensed, returning his gaze to Stark. He had been scanning for shadows, exits, and potential weapons at the same time he'd looked over the brightly-lit workshop, but he didn’t want to have to fight his way out.

"I'll give it all right back," Stark wheedled. "You can look at my suit," he added, gesturing to one of the older versions displayed against the wall.

Face impassive, Bruce reached into his belt and slipped a thin piece of metal across the table to Stark, who snatched it up immediately. 

"This one's plain," Stark complained after a moment. "I wanna see the ones that blow up."

Bruce, who had opted for watching him carefully rather than going over to his suit, just shook his head. "Why?"

"I'm curious. Also, what's with the bat theme? Do you have some sort of fetish?"

"I hate bats," Bruce replied coolly, then carefully laid another bat-shaped bit of metal onto the   
table. In appearance, this one was the same as the last, apart from a tiny light on the edge. "Don't touch it. It activates if anyone but me does."

"Why am I not surprised?" He looked over the object. "This is a tiny bomb. What's it called?"

"A batarang. And it packs a punch."

"God, you can stop hovering already. I'm not going to blow myself up, and if I was going to then you're better off over there anyway."

Bruce made his way to a table where Stark appeared to be working on a new style of bow, with a an array of multi-purpose arrows beside it. Bruce stood so that he could keep an eye on Stark, and he knew Stark was doing the same. 

"Admitting Dr. Banner," a computerized British voice reported, just as the workshop doors slid open.

"Hey Tony, I wasn't sure you'd be up. I just--" Banner cut himself off at the sight of Bruce. "Um, hello?"

Bruce just nodded at him.

"Bruce, Batman. Batman, Bruce," Stark introduced.

"Dr. Banner," Bruce said in greeting.

Banner shot a resigned look at Stark. "SHIELD doesn't know about this, do they," he said, not bothering to make it a question.

"You know they're just a bunch of spoilsports," Stark pointed out. "We superheroes have to stick together."

Banner fixed Bruce with a calm look. "You know what happens when I get angry, right?" At the other man's nod, Banner continued, "So don't do anything stupid."

"I never do."

"The delivery man from Dragon Palace is here," the incorporeal voice reported.

"Bruce, you want to get that?" Stark asked. When the other man just raised an eyebrow. "I ordered an extra Pad Thai in case someone else showed up. It's yours if you bring us the food."

"Chicken or beef?" Banner said speculatively.

"Shrimp," Stark said.

"You win."

Stark glanced over at Bruce as Banner left the room. "I hope you like curry."

~

When dreams of Tony falling from the sky and Bucky falling into an abyss woke Steve up twice in the hour since he had gone to bed, he gave up, rolling out of bed and heading out of his room. He spent the next hour in the gym, pounding away at a punching bag until his memories faded. By the time he stepped away, he was still too wired to sleep. It was two in the morning, but he knew that at least one of the other Avengers would be up no matter the hour. 

He heard the sound of talking and laughter from the central floor’s living room, and headed that way. JARVIS suddenly spoke to him from the walls. “Master Stark and Dr. Banner are asleep. You are advised to leave them be and return to your room.” 

Steve picked up his pace, eyes narrowed. He burst into the room, eyes scanning for threats. He was in a white shirt and sweatpants rather than his uniform, but he could take out threats regardless. 

"You've got to be kidding me, Tony," he said when he spotted Batman sitting on the couch opposite Bruce and Tony, a take-out box in his hands.

"Hey, why are you blaming me? Maybe Brucey brought him in. Or he just climbed on up here himself. Or flew! Why am I always the first person you blame?"

"Because it's always your fault," Bruce said.

Steve looked between Tony and Bruce with exasperation before turning to Bruce with a tense smile. "Hello again."

"Captain," Batman greeted, having already set down his food and tensed.

"It's nice of you to drop by," Steve continued, gritting his teeth.

"I'll just be going," Bruce said, standing.

"C'mon, Cap, at least let the man finish his dinner," Tony said, lounging back on the couch and raising his eyebrows meaningfully at Steve. 

At that, Steve reassessed the man sitting on the couch. Though his expression was unreadable, and his dark mask covered the majority of his face, it was clear that the other hero was worse for wear than the last time they had seen him, at the battle earlier in the week. There was scruff on his chin that made him appear unkempt, and his posture, though tense, lacked the complete control he had exibited before. 

It reminded Steve of his days chasing HYDRA across Europe, when he felt even the slightest pause to eat or rest could destroy the mission. He had had teammates and commanders to make sure he stayed healthy. It appeared Batman had no such support. "Finish eating," he instructed, sitting down in the armchair beside Batman, putting him between Batman and his teammates.  
Batman continued to eat casually, as though Steve’s orders had meant nothing to him. 

"Did you kill some more punching bags?" Tony asked Steve.

The other man flushed lightly. "Only one."

"I'm going to build something you can't destroy." Tony said it like a fact, like no engineering challenge was too big for him. From what Steve had seen, he believed it. "Really, you'd think the bags were insulting your mother. Do you think if we drew little Hitler mustaches on them you might be able to take them down even faster?" Tony mused.

Steve huffed out a laugh. "I've punched Hitler enough in my life."

Beside him, Batman raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, didn't you hear, Batsy? Cap here punched out Hitler like a hundred times," Tony said.

"Not really," the soldier corrected, embarrassed. "On stage."

Batman just nodded and focused on his food.

Though Batman was still tense at his side, the Avengers continued to laugh and talk among themselves while Batman finished his dinner. The moment he put down his takeout container,   
Steve turned to him. "Can we talk?"

"Don't break him," Tony said, but otherwise didn't interfere. Steve wasn't sure which of them he was talking to.

Steve led Bruce out to a balcony overlooking the bright city, which was so similar yet so different from Gotham. Though Steve didn't trust Bruce, he at least believed that he wouldn't be able to throw him off the balcony ledge. Even if he did, he was sure Tony would find some way to catch him, since he was definitely watching them from inside.

"So why are you here?" Steve asked him, getting directly to the point. No matter how rough the other superhero looked, the Avengers were Steve’s priority.

Batman crossed his arms. "I'm not here to hurt your team."

"That's not an answer," Steve pointed out.

"It is for you. New York is the biggest city in the country, has the most resources and opportunities."

"And you're staying?"

"For now it's where I need to be."

"And the crime-fighting?"

"Not something I'm going to give up," Batman replied steadily. "I'm not here to infringe, but I won't sit it out if I can help."

"And you expect us to trust you?" It wasn't a challenge, but rather an honest question.

"I expect you to let me do what I can do. I don't need your help or your approval."

"You've done this before."

"Yes."

Steve doesn't press him for more details. "Why?"

"Because no one should have to live in helplessness or fear, not when there are people who can stop it. You may be the superheroes in charge around here, but I don't do what I do for the press or power. I'll stay out of your way if you'll stay out of mine."

And suddenly, Steve understood completely why Tony had invited Batman into the Tower. "I'm not sure you should stay out of our way. I don't know where you're from or what you've done, but I think you could find a place here. Our team does good. You could do something real, something big."

"You all trust so easily," Batman pointed out. "Are you sure you should?"

"I'm a good judge of character," Steve said calmly. "I don't need your dossier to see that you're one of the good guys. And I'd rather give a superhero a chance than leave him out in the cold because he might be a villain. So what do you say? With some training, you could be an Avenger."

"I don't train just anyone," Batman shot back, "and I work alone."

Steve nodded. Now where had he heard that before? "Do you at least have somewhere to sleep?" Steve asked, seeing the reluctance in Batman’s stance.

"I'll see you around, Captain."

Before Steve could stop him, Batman was over the edge of the balcony and disappearing into the night.

-

Aliens and other creatures and villains seem to attack New York City with surprising regularity. True to his word, Bruce dived in to help during the ensuing three attacks during the next two weeks. The current one involved a giant octopus with laser-shooting eyes, of all things, rampaging through Soho.

Bruce got the memo on a police radio he had stolen the previous week, deciding that his potential to help outweighed the theft. This time when he dove into the fight, the Avengers did not even look surprised. Even after his impromptu meal at the Tower, the team at large had seemed uneasy with his help, Captain America and Iron Man excluded. Both superheroes had invited Bruce to return to the Tower or to eat shwarma with the team after the battles, but Bruce had just slinked away. Today, he found himself fighting back-to-back with the Black Widow, who treated him with particular suspicion but had not yet tried to stab him.

She moved with the kind of lethal grace he would attribute to the League of Shadows if they had been in his world, but could tell she had received similar training here. She may not have trusted him, but they were able to work together against the nearest tentacle with relative ease.

In its pain from their combined attack, the octopus flailed his tentacle and swatted a car in their direction, making them both dive out of the way. Overhead, Stark and Thor were attacking its face, though he watched Thor get clipped by a laser burst.

Bruce spotted a weak spot at the base of one tentacle and dove in, avoiding the eighteen-wheeler-sized tentacles and razored suction cups narrowly. He managed to get close enough to throw an explosive batarang at the fleshy spot before he was knocked backwards by a tentacle coming from behind him, the suckers slicing into his back and throwing him into an abandoned taxi.

Behind him, the batarang exploded. Though his head was reeling and his back felt like it was on fire, Bruce forced himself to his feet to assess the situation. The blast had knocked the octopus to its side, allowing Hawkeye to send a few explosive arrows into the weak spot which Bruce had identified, and the octopus collapsed.

New York was safe again. Bruce limped a few steps towards the beast to assess its condition when a wave of pain from his back made him falter, making him lean against a nearby streetlamp for support.

He could tell that the gashes had gone deep enough to need stitches, and he was already calculating ways to reach the tricky parts of his back when Captain America appeared beside him. Bruce must have been more disoriented than he had thought to not notice the soldier's approach.

"Are you okay, Batman?" Rogers asked.

"Fine," Bruce said through gritted teeth.

Ignoring him, Rogers went around him, gasping sharply when he saw Bruce's back.

A familiar black SUV pulled up beside them, Agent Coulson emerging. He must have stayed just out of range during battles so that he could be on scene immediately after.

"This needs medical attention," Rogers told Bruce, hovering behind him. Coulson looked unconcerned, but his eyes focused on Bruce a bit too sharply for his comfort.

Bruce forced himself to straighten up, not flinching from sheer force of will.

"SHIELD's medical team can look it over," Coulson offered. He tried to step behind Bruce to examine the damage, but Bruce turned, putting his back to the streetlight and facing Rogers, Coulson, and the approaching Avengers. He was sincerely missing the presence of his Batmobile or Batjet to swoop in and remove him from sticky situations like this.

In this state, fighting the Avengers and SHIELD agents would be difficult, but not impossible.

"I said I'm fine," Bruce said shortly.

"You're dripping," Stark said, coming to a stop beside Captain America and gesturing to the pavement beneath Bruce's feet.

"SHIELD has a medical team en route, some of the best doctors in the world," Coulson said. "No charge."

Perhaps not monetarily, but Bruce wasn't looking to owe the superhero-controlling agency any debts.

The Avengers were all looking at him now, even the recently de-greened Dr. Banner. None of them had been hurt as much as Bruce, so there was nothing to divert their attention.

"No thanks," Bruce said, crossing his arms.

Rogers looked at him contemplatively, jaw set. "Bruce," he said, and Bruce was disoriented enough from the blood loss that it took him a moment to realize Rogers was addressing Dr. Banner, not him, "you still have the tools you'd need to stitch him up at the Tower, right?"

"I do," Banner said, jaw set in a manner similar to the soldier.

"ETA for our medical is minus five. Remember, Batman doesn't have clearance for the Tower," Coulson argued.

"Bit late for that," Stark confessed easily.

"Seriously, Tony?" Hawkeye said, frowning. "And you didn't even invite me?"

Coulson's eye twitched, but he was looking a bit resigned. "You realize the amount of paperwork that is about to swamp me because of this, right?"

"Knew you'd understand," Stark said.

"Public hospitals aren't secure," Rogers told Bruce. "We can patch you up. You need to come   
with us." The words were an order, but the request was implicit.

In his own world, Bruce had private doctors for his general wounds, and Alfred for anything overtly Batman-related. Here, he was alone. Bruce finally relented, nodding once. 

"We'll take the Quinjet, get started with the supplies we have in there," Rogers said, returning immediately to leader-mode. "Tony, you fly ahead, see if you can get the lab set up and disinfected before we get there." Stark nodded and shot off into the sky.

The journey back to the Tower was a bit of a blur for Bruce, who may have had more head trauma than he'd originally diagnosed. He remembered protesting when they had begun to cut away the back of his uniform, stating that it was his only one, and hearing Rogers reassure him that Stark could make him another in a few days.

Someone had pressed gauze against his back to staunch the bleeding, and Bruce had focused carefully on his breathing, refusing the offer of painkillers. Lying on his stomach made Bruce tense, since he was unable to see the Avengers moving around him, but at least these were men—and woman—he had trusted to have his back on the battlefield, rather than anonymous government workers.

They moved him smoothly from the jet to the Tower's brightly-lit lab. Bruce was distinctly nauseated, a feeling he was familiar with from a long history of concussions, and the pain from the rapid, yet efficient, stitches.

"You're sure you don't want pain medicine?" Dr. Banner asked as he finished the final stitch.   
"This is only going to get more uncomfortable as the adrenaline wears off."

"No," Bruce said.

"I'm worried he has a concussion," Banner said to someone else in the lab. "His helmet is intact, but if he was hit that hard..."

Rogers's face suddenly appeared in front of his, kneeling beside him. "We need to remove your helmet. Your mask. Your identity will not leave this room."

Bruce, dizzy and furious at his helpless state, said, "Do it. It's not like it matters here anyway."

Rogers scanned his face, and then nodded. They removed his mask carefully, and then Banner immediately set to work patching his head.

Bruce could not hold back a wince when Banner touched the delicate back of his head.

"He'll be done soon," Rogers assured him. His expression was concerned, and he kept talking, an obvious attempt to distract him from the pain. "Could you tell me your name?"

Bruce's lips quirked. So many years of hiding his identity, and that was all left inconsequential on a world where he was nothing. "Bruce Wayne."


	3. Everyone Has an English Butler

"He finally fell asleep," Steve reported, entering the kitchen. Bruce—Dr. Banner—was still in the lab with Wayne, but the rest of the Avengers were in the main kitchen, waiting for an update while they partook in victory doughnuts.

"And he'll be okay?" Clint asked.

Steve nodded. "He's all patched up."

Thor smiled. "I am pleased to hear this. The Batman is a mighty warrior, for all that he is human."

The various humans on the team ignored that, since Thor never meant it as an insult.

“Is he though?” Steve wondered.

Tony said, "JARVIS says Bruce Wayne doesn't exist. No records anywhere. But all scans indicated that he’s 100% human."

"Fake name?" Steve confirmed.

"Or it's been deep-cleaned from the system," Natasha said.

Tony rolled his eyes. "It's pretty generic as fake names go, since it's just two first names. He probably just grabbed the first name from our Bruce. Like we wouldn't notice another Bruce. Speak of the devil," he said as their Bruce walked in, exhaustion obvious in his stance. Then Tony shook his head. "I can't call you both Bruce. How about I call you Brucey, Brucey? It's not like I don't call you that all the time anyway. Okay, team decision. This is Brucey, Batman is Bruce. Or Wayne. Or Batsy."

"Um, okay," Brucey—Steve mentally admonished himself for following Tony's suggestion so quickly—agreed. "I think Batman might not be so forgiving if you tried calling him that."

"He would love any nickname I have him. People love when I give them nicknames. Just look at Pepper. Besides, he won't go all green and angry on me if I did. JARVIS scanned his blood—100% human."

"He still could and would kick your ass," Natasha pointed out smugly.

That somewhat approving statement led Steve to the next topic of discussion.

"How would everyone feel about letting him stick around? Of course, we can't extend an official Avengers invitation, not while SHIELD is still in charge, but the Tower has spare rooms."

"How much do we really know about this guy? The whole point of this place is for us to have somewhere secure," Brucey pointed out. "Secure both for him and from him."

"I know this is our home, and that I'm asking a lot," Steve admitted, but Tony spoke over him.

"I've already been thinking it over. JARVIS could make sure he doesn't go anywhere he's not supposed to. This Tower is just as secure as SHIELD."

"Probably more, considering how often you hack their systems," Clint pointed out. "Are we sure he even needs a place to stay? His gear looks expensive. He probably has a penthouse on Park Avenue," Clint pointed out.

"He's running out of what he has," Natasha assessed. "He used his weapons more sparingly than ever, which is why he got close enough to that thing today to get hit."

"And he was worried about his suit earlier. Said it was his only one," Bruce added.

"Even if he is living the high life—one without razors—all of you also had other options when I put out the invite to live here," Tony pointed out. "No one can resist the awesomeness of this place. I designed it, after all."

"I think he needs our help. I don't know what his situation is, but he jumped in to help us fight even when we told him to leave. We should help him if we can."

"The Batman has proved himself a noble warrior," Thor proclaimed. "He would indeed be a fitting addition to our band of arms brothers."

"All in favor?"

Every hand was raised.

~

It took Steve less time than he expected to convince Batman--Bruce-- to stay in the Tower for the foreseeable future. Dealing with Tony so long had gotten Steve accustomed to dealing with people who were more than willing to hurt themselves to protect their pride. There was more resignation than excitement in his eyes when he said yes, but at least he agreed.

Steve just hoped he wasn't making a mistake.

~

"JARVIS says you were working late last night," Tony commented as they entered the lab together.

Tony had supplied materials for Bruce to make a new suit and was currently working on a potential new design for Bruce's batarang collection. Bruce was not at all surprised to hear that his activity there was being monitored, not when he had the brains and materials to make a bomb big enough to destroy the entire city, but Tony had been absorbed in his own work too often to come check in on him much, except for when they worked together, like now. It hadn’t taken long for Tony to insist that they were on a first-name basis, citing the fact that only his friends got to play with his toys, and his friends only called him Stark when they were pissed off at him.

Bruce just shrugged. "I had work to do."

“You’re supposed to be on bed rest.”

His injuries had been deep, and it sometimes hurt to simply breathe, but Bruce had never let that stop him before. “Because I’m sure you always listen to your doctors.”

“Hell no,” Tony admitted with a laugh. “But JARVIS also told me that you're working on ways to hack his system. So, um, stop."

Despite his access to physical materials, his computer access was limited. Though he was certain that Tony himself had access to SHIELD files, files which might hold the secret to trans-dimensional travel, they had remained strictly out of Bruce's hands. Until he successfully hacked JARVIS, which hopefully wouldn't take much longer. "I'm not here to hurt anyone," Bruce told him.

"I know the allure of an un-hackable system. Forbidden fruit, and all that. I, myself, have hacked many such systems. But JARVIS has a self-destruct mode if you get too far without permission, and I'd hate to have to rebuild him. He's pretty great the way he is."

"Why thank you, sir," the AI intoned.

"It's an impressive firewall," Bruce admitted.

"Best in the world. I'd know—I've compromised the rest."

"Why?"

Tony laughed. "Because I could. You never know what you might find on encrypted systems. It's usually boring, but sometimes..." A wicked grin overtook Tony's lips, framed by his dark goatee.  
"Sometimes it's worth the time. If it's out there, I can find it."

JARVIS cleared his throat unobtrusively.

"JARVIS helps. A little."

"I do what I can, sir."

"An AI that likes being recognized for its work," Bruce mused.

"He takes after his daddy," Tony explained. "So, knowing I can find anything I want, do you have anything you want to tell me?"

Bruce raised his eyebrows.

"You know, anything I might find that you'd like to explain beforehand."

"You haven't found anything yet," Bruce pointed out.

"Are you sure?" Tony asked, wearing a poker face worthy of the back-rooms of Vegas.

Bruce just shook his head. "What are we working on today?"

Tony pouted for a few minutes, but once Bruce asked to see the prototype for the sonic batarangs, he let it go--for the moment.

~

Though Bruce insisted that he was fine by the day after his injury, Steve had Tony deny him gym access until the end of the week. He had seen the wounds and the subsequent stitches, in addition to hearing Brucey's prognosis of a concussion, and Steve wasn't going to have the newest superhero in town put himself out of commission with sheer stubbornness.

He wasn't surprised, however, when JARVIS reported that Bruce had been practicing a daily regiment of sit-ups and crunches in his room, though.

Bruce kept to himself, taking advantage of the main kitchen, but avoiding the rest of the team by staying in his bedroom the rest of the time.

In fact, the first time Steve saw the man for more than five minutes at a time was when he finally had gym clearance, and Steve walked in while Bruce was performing a series of complex martial arts moves on the gym's newest punching bag.

"Hi," Steve greeted.

Bruce completed a final high kick, and then turned to look at him. "Hello."

Part of Steve felt as though he was intruding here, but it was his gym too, and he wouldn't let the Tower's new addition make him feel like this place was no longer his home. "How are you doing?" he asked, scanning the other man for signs of further injury.

"I'm fine," Bruce replied shortly.

Steve hesitated for a moment, then pressed on. "How are you liking the Tower so far?"

"It's... nice." Without the mask, Bruce was a bit easier to read, but only just. He had a strong face, with a sharp jawline and dark, serious eyes. There was a sense of control in his expressions that Steve was used to seeing in Natasha's face, something that made him doubt that he would ever be able to read them unless they let him. "Thanks for the invitation."

"The good guys have to stick together," Steve said. Bruce's lingering presence had just confirmed for Steve that the other man had no real home nearby to return to, making him glad he had pushed the rest of the team into extending the offer.

"Do you want to spar?" Bruce asked him.

"Are you sure you're okay to do it?" Steve questioned, hesitating.

Bruce just raised an eyebrow.

"All right...." Steve agreed hesitantly, rolling his shoulders and walking with the other man to the   
mats set up in the center of the room.

Steve watched Bruce carefully as they paused, assessing each other. He couldn't see any sign from the other man's stance that he was still in pain, but knew better than to assume that meant anything.

He waited another moment, but Bruce wasn't moving. It looked like it was up to Steve to throw the first punch. Steve held back, aiming for Bruce's shoulder, and was taken aback when Bruce easily side-stepped him, and used his forward momentum to flip him onto the mat. Steve rolled instinctively, returning to his feet immediately.

He looked back at Bruce in surprise, and the other man raised his eyebrows. On the next pass, Steve put in more effort, and found himself locked in a rapid dance with Bruce, each dodging the other's blows before they could land for several seconds before Steve managed to get a grip on Bruce and lock his arms around him. Bruce just pulled a flip that Steve hadn't seen from anyone except Natasha, especially not someone with at least a hundred pounds of muscle on the assassin.

They sparred for more than ten minutes, surprisingly well-matched. Though Steve had enhanced muscles from the serum, he didn't possess the sheer amount of training which was obvious in Bruce's every move. He had clearly dedicated his life to fighting. Steve stopped pulling his punches as much, knowing they would be dodged or deflected.

Finally, however, Bruce paused a second too long, and Steve's kick sent him flying backwards, barely landing on the far edge of the mat.

"I am so sorry," Steve said, rushing to his side.

Bruce just sat up. "I'm fine, Rogers. Good kick."

"Call me Steve," Steve insisted before he looked to the ceiling. “JARVIS?" Tony had told him that JARVIS didn't actually live in the ceiling, but it seemed politer than yelling at thin air.

"Mister Wayne appears to be winded, but there is no evidence of broken bones," JARVIS reported. Steve had asked the AI for similar reports about Tony, who tended to downplay his injuries.

Steve caught Bruce giving the ceiling a wary glance, and explained, "JARVIS is just a computer." The AI didn't say anything, but Steve quickly added, "A brilliant computer. Apparently having an English butler is the cliché of rich and famous, and Tony just had to one-up it by making his an AI."

Bruce snorted slightly, but then his expression sobered up. "The flesh-and-blood sort aren't so bad."

Steve studied his expression curiously. He couldn't peg it, but he knew he'd seen it somewhere.  
"...You had an English butler?" Steve queried incredulously.

Bruce nodded. "Alfred."

"Wow," Steve said. "That's... I didn't miss some memo about the future where everyone now grows up with a butler, did I?"

Bruce huffed a laugh. "You just keep unusual company."

That meant Bruce had been rich, filthy rich. So why was he living with the Avengers? "What was it like? Having Alfred?"

Bruce looked at Steve with a carefully blank mask before sighing. "Alfred was all I had for a long time. My parents died when I was young, and Alfred has been by my side ever since." Bruce frowned, a determined set to his brow. "I've lost him, lost so many people. Or, I guess, it's more that I'm lost. But I'm going to get them back."

Steve didn't know what he meant, and Bruce didn't elaborate further as they continued sparring, but seeing the look in his eyes made Steve utterly convinced that he would do as he said.


	4. Do a Little Spin

“C’mon out, Batsy! Do a little spin,” Tony called encouragingly. 

Rolling his eyes, Bruce emerged from where he had changed into his new and improved uniform. The design had been streamlined, the gray toned down several shades, and the helmet reinfornced with a fabric that remained loose until hit, at which point it hardened into a strong armor, one of Tony’s newest inventions. Bruce had also implemented the fabric into the makeshift wings of his cape, making it more durable when he had to glide down with it. Bruce had declined the addition of an HUD synced with JARVIS, insisting that his own technology needed to remain separate from Tony’s in case someone attempted to hack their systems. With the materials in the lab and what Bruce could salvage from his old cowl, he was in the process of recreating his night-vision, communication, and recording system. For now, however, the physical uniform was complete. 

“He kept the cape? Bold choice,” mused an unexpectedly feminine voice. 

Tony had been joined in the lab by the rest of the team, all crowded around the couch and benches at the center of the room. 

“Really, Stark?” Bruce growled. 

“I don’t know, I like the cape,” Hawkeye told Black Widow. “Can I get one?”

“No.” Dressed in his usual suit, Coulson was standing by the couch, a folder in his hands. The government agent didn’t live in the Tower like the rest of them, but he seemed to appear on random occasions. None of the other Avengers seemed surprised to find him in the kitchen or other spots around the Tower at all hours of the day. Though he spent a lot of time silently eyeing Bruce, Coulson had not said anything else to him about his new home in the Tower. “You would only get it caught on something and choke yourself to death.”

“Is that really a problem?” Steve asked, taking a handful of the popcorn Hawkeye had brought to the show.

“I find that my cape only adds to my noble appearance,” Thor declared. “Though no scrap of fabric would dare attempt to strangle me.”

“Bruce?” Tony asked. 

“I’ve never choked myself on my cape,” he told them, crossing his arms. “Is this a fashion show?”

“Just an impromptu team gathering,” Tony said, grinning. “Now, how about that spin?”

“In your dreams,” Bruce replied. 

“Seriously, Bruce, we’ve got to test the range of motion on this baby. What if you need to execute a manuever in battle and can’t get your arms up high enough, or something?” Tony insisted. 

“They did the same thing when my suit got upgraded,” Hawkeye told him casually. 

“Except he didn’t hesitate to show off a little,” Banner added. 

Hawkeye laughed. “If you got it, flaunt it.” He smirked at Bruce. “If you’re going to keep fighting with us, we’ve got to make sure you look hot enough.”

“Also, we wear pink on Wednesdays,” Coulson dead-panned. 

Bruce didn’t know how to respond to that, so he carefully cycled through a tai chi form, making sure that the pressure of the suit did not disturb the stitches in his back. The new suit was the optimal balance of freedom of movement and durability. It was lightweight enough that it wouldn’t hinder Bruce’s stamina, but thick enough to keep him warm during winter in New York, which Bruce was quickly discovering to be as cold and unforgiving as those in Gotham. 

“How’s it feel?” Tony called.

“Fine,” Bruce told him, straightening up. 

“You can’t stop there, that was barely even a show,” Hawkeye complained loudly. 

Banner sighed. “He was under my needle last week. Maybe he shouldn’t be pushing it just to entertain you,” he said. 

“We sparred this morning,” Steve spoke up, ignoring Bruce’s glare. “He’s good to go.” The soldier smiled at Bruce. “We’ve all gone through our times as dancing monkeys.”

Holding back another eye-roll with difficulty, Bruce checked to make sure that he wasn’t in danger of knocking into something unstable in Tony’s lab and setting off a bomb. Once he determined that he was clear, he took a slow breath, and then executed a front flip, followed by a spinning kick, and then landed with a somersault before regaining his feet. 

“Hot enough,” Hawkeye declared.

“The cape makes it more dramatic,” Steve noted. 

“Would my armor look stupid with a cape?” Tony wondered. 

“Yes.” The answer was instantaneous from the entire team. 

“The Man of Bat is unique in his ability to wear such a cape, without the authority of the gods,” Thor said. 

“Looks like the team has spoken,” Bruce told Tony, lips quirked slightly. 

Coulson chuckled. “We’ll make an Avenger out of you yet, Wayne. All right, guys, show’s over.”

“It will be an honor to go into the field with you once again,” Thor told Bruce as Banner, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Coulson filed out of the room. “I wish you quick healing.”

“Thanks,” Bruce said. “I, uh, I look forward to working with you all, too.”

And, despite his initial skepticism, Bruce found that he was sincere. For all their faults, this team was growing on him. 

~

When Bruce arrived in the kitchen the next morning, he found Tony, Thor, and Steve already present. Though Steve was scrambling what had to be two dozen eggs for the group, Thor already had a stack of strawberry Pop-Tarts on his plate. "Greetings, Man of Bat!" the alien-god said when he spotted Bruce. "Join us for the breaking of the fast."

"I'll get you a plate," Steve told him with a smile.

Tony patted the seat next to him, so Bruce took the invitation. There were dark circles under Tony's eyes, and he was clutching a mug of coffee as if it held the secret to life. Still, he directed a friendly grunt in Bruce's direction.

"You're up early," Bruce commented, since the clock hadn't even reached the double-digits yet.

"I'm up late," Tony corrected. "I'm surprised you're up. JARVIS said you were in the lab pretty  
late yourself."

"I was putting some finishing touches on my suit," Bruce informed him.

"Sweet! Do we need to have another demonstration? And this time, I want to touch it. You should definitley let me touch it," Tony rambled. "Also, ignore any innuendo thrown in there. It's early and I have no filter."

Steve set down a plate of eggs in front of Bruce. "You need sleep, Tony."

"But Bruce was up late too," Tony complained.

"I slept," Bruce argued.

Tony snapped his fingers, and JARVIS piped up, "Mister Wayne was asleep for no longer than two hours last night."

"Bruce," Steve said with the same weary resignation he sometimes said Tony's name. Apparently noticing this, Bruce saw Tony do a tiny victory fist-pump.

JARVIS's voice took on a chiding tone. "It is quite an unhealthy habit, Mister Wayne."

Entirely used to the admonitions from a dry, British voice, Bruce retorted reflexively, "So is dressing up like a giant bat and fighting crime."

"Excellent!" Thor boomed, laughing. "You are most humorous."

"Um, thanks," Bruce said, trying not to sound thrown off.

"I see you have become close comrades with the Captain and the Man of Iron," Thor said. "They are noble companions for any warrior."

"They are," Bruce agreed.

Steve smiled, pleased, and Tony just snorted. "Hells yeah," he said with a nod. "All the superbitches are lined up to be our friends."

"Did you just call me a 'superbitch?'" Bruce asked dangerously.

Steve laughed softly, raising his eyebrows at Tony.

"I meant 'super awesome bros,' of course. All the super awesome bros are lined up."

"I shall miss your banter while I am at home," Thor lamented.

"Are you going back to the southwest?" Bruce asked, having already noticed Thor's occasional visits to the other side of the country.

"Though Jane provides a home for my heart, I am referring to my home realm, Asgard," Thor said.

"And that's another planet, right?" Bruce asked.

"Yep. Thor's a bona-fide alien," Tony said, the coffee clearly doing its job to wake him up.

"He's not very similar to the aliens in the media in my day," Steve commented. "They weren't so human-shaped."

Bruce shrugged. "I've met my fair share of humanoid aliens."

"Indeed?" Thor exclaimed. "Which of the Nine Realms were they from?"

Bruce hesitated, mentally berating his verbal slip. Steeling himself, he said, "Mars."

Thor frowned. "I was unaware that there was life on Mars."

As Tony began humming an unfamiliar song, Bruce tried again, "Krypton?"

"I have not heard of this planet," Thor said, brow furrowed. "Are these imaginary alien acquaintances? I have met many children who have claimed to have met 'aliens,' as well."

Bruce's jaw clenched. Krypton did not even exist in this universe. Somehow, that made it truly sink in that Bruce was utterly alone in this universe. His closest friend was not even a possibility in this world, much less a reality.

He realized that the other three superheroes were staring at him, and Bruce stood up. "I'll see you later."

As he left the kitchen, he heard Thor ask with a hurt voice, "Did I offend him?"

Bruce was nearly to the elevator when he heard Steve's quick and sure footsteps behind him. It would be best to turn around and confront him as if nothing were wrong, but Bruce hadn't quite gotten a grasp on his own emotions yet, so he jabbed the elevator button.

The doors had nearly closed behind him when Steve slid inside. Bruce pressed the button for the floor of his lab without sparing Steve a look.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked him, concern clear in his voice. Bruce was silent. "You know that  
we just want to help."

Bruce cleared his throat, and then said, "I'm not from your universe." Admitting the truth didn't lift the burden from his chest, but Bruce was used to carrying burdens.

"A parallel universe," Steve mused, not even sounding like he questioned it. "Do we exist there?"  
Bruce shook his head.

"And Bruce Wayne doesn't exist here," Steve said, nodding to himself. "We were wondering."

"I can imagine," Bruce said tersely.

"How are you here?"

"I don't know. I'm looking for a way to return as soon as possible."

"You could have told us," Steve pointed out. Bruce didn't bother responding to that. They reached his floor, and he wasn't surprised when Steve disembarked the elevator with him. "And in your universe, there were aliens on Earth. Are you from Earth?"

Bruce huffed lightly. "I'm from Earth. America. But from a city that doesn't exist here. Another superhero from my world was from Krypton." Without Clark here to get that infuriatingly happy smile over it, Bruce added honestly as they entered the lab, "My best friend."

"What was his name?" Steve asked.

"Superman. Clark Kent." Bruce paused, leaning back against one of the lab tables and looking at Steve. "You remind me a bit of him."

"Did you have your own Avengers?"

"The Justice League," Bruce tells him.

"And you want to go back," Steve said, not needing to make it a question.

Bruce nodded.

"You know I lost my entire world, too. But everyone I knew is dead now," Steve's voice caught slightly on the words, but he pressed on. "Yours are still out there. We'll help you get them back."

"You want to tell everyone?" Bruce asked.

"Our team has some of the greatest minds this world's got to offer, and connections in every field. This isn't the strangest thing they've dealt with," Steve assured him.

"I have the feeling SHIELD won't let something like this go," Bruce admitted.

"Let us worry about SHIELD. Now, I can have the team gathered within the hour to talk this over. You in?"

Bruce was so accustomed to working alone that the very idea of explaining his problem, his weakness, to anyone was off-putting, but another thought of this universe's non-existent Krypton had him nodding. "Let's do it."

~

After telling the team the basics, everyone agreed to get right on researching a way to get Bruce home. Tony had been ceaselessly curious about Bruce's home universe, but Steve had given him a nudge towards his lab once Bruce's answers turned monosyllabic. Thor had agreed to visit Asgard and see if anyone there knew a way, since they were the most advanced at space travel, as well as asking Jane for any ideas. Though Brucey and Tony were not involved in the fields relating to transdimensional travel, both had enough experience researching the strange that they were willing to try. They had been quick to invite Bruce into their lab to help, who had clearly impressed them with his intelligence.

Clint and Natasha agreed to subtly ask their connections in SHIELD and around the world about anything they might have known. Steve was sure that Coulson was going to brought in their confidence within the day.

For his part, Steve decided to make Bruce as comfortable in this world as possible. He was constantly impressed by the other man, who had woken up in a world nothing like his own, and had immediately joined in to fight against evil, without knowing a single thing about the heroes he was fighting with or the humans he was fighting for. At least Steve had woken up into SHIELD's—overprotective and smothering—care. Bruce had been thrown into the deep end.  
So that night after a day of research by the whole team, Steve called everyone up to the living room for a movie night. It took more than half an hour to gather everyone (minus Thor, who had already departed for Asgard), and another ten minutes to divide up the mountain of Chinese food that Steve had ordered among the heroes.

Steve settled onto the couch beside Bruce as everyone clamored for the extra boxes of fried rice. The man looked wearied than usual, though he refused to lean back into the plush couch. "I know you probably wanted to keep researching. I know it's hard enough to drag the 'Science Bros'—Tony's term, not mine—from their labs for things like human company and food, and you've got a real reason to keep working. But you know your friends wouldn't want you to kill yourself by over-working. They want you returned safe and sound. I know I would." Steve smiled. "And you can wake up early to keep looking tomorrow."

"I don't need much sleep," Bruce replied.

"So I've heard," Steve said, rolling his eyes slightly.

"Did you see that? I taught him that," Tony proclaimed proudly.

Steve realized the rest of the Avengers had settled into their usual spots during his short speech. "People have been rolling their eyes since before you were born, Stark," Steve retorted.

"But it's like sex. Just because people did it in the 40s doesn't mean Steve Rogers did."

Steve blushed and changed the subject. "So what's the movie tonight?" Since these nights were ostensibly to catch Steve up on the big cultural events of the past few decades, he left the decisions up to the rest of the team. Mostly Clint and Tony, since Thor knew even less than him, Natasha refused to admit to watching movies (though he had seen her smile during Beauty and the Beast), and Brucey was chronically indecisive.

"I was wondering how different pop culture is here than over in Bruce's world. So, what do you say, Batsy? Recognize any of these?" Tony held up three DVDs: Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark, the first Harry Potter film, and Jurassic Park.

Bruce tilted his head. "If they exist in my world, I haven't seen them. That's not saying much, though."

"All right, then," Tony said. "We'll let the two cultural-virgins narrow it down. First up we have a flick about a bad-ass professor who fights some Nazis to stop them from getting a weapon that will make Hitler invincible."

Steve frowned. "I'm not sure that's the film for me."

Tony bit his lip. "Yeah, now that you mention it..."

"Real sensitive, Stark," Natasha quipped.

"Okay, then," Tony pressed on. "Next up is the classic story of an orphaned boy who has to fight the man who murdered his parents. He attends a school for magic after a giant shows up and tells him, 'Yer a wizard, Harry.'"

Steve shrugged and glanced sideways. Bruce's expression was impossible to read, but he'd learned from living with Natasha that that meant that he was uncomfortable.

"Pass," Steve said.

"C'mon, it's a classic!" Tony argued.

"Lots of orphans in the superhero crowd," Clint pointed out from his perch on top of the chair  
Natasha was lounging in.

"Hey, I'm an orphan, too," Tony pointed out, as though it were a contest. "Doesn't mean I can't enjoy some wizard fun. All the good movies have dead parents. Just look at Disney."

"Tony," Natasha said.

Her tone was bland, but Tony immediately held up his hands. "Rough crowd. Okay, fine. Last one is about a group of scientists who go to a mysterious island theme-park that's full of dinosaurs. Yes, they're genetically engineered," he said, looking at Steve and Brucey, "but they were hatched out of eggs, which shouldn't offend anyone here. Unless, Clint...?"

"Caw caw, motherfucker," Clint said drily.

"All right, anyone have any bad run-ins with dinosaurs recently? Have a phobia of being eaten while on the toilet? Then let's get this sucker started," Tony said. The DVD cases were apparently for show, since JARVIS immediately dimmed the lights slightly and started the film on the wide-screen television.

Per usual, the team commentated extensively on the movie, from criticizing the special effects to arguing whether the height of her shorts negated Laura Dern's attractiveness.

Bruce remained mostly silent by Steve's side, finishing his chow mein while absorbing the film. He slowly relaxed as the film progressed, leaning back into the couch. He got into a brief sideline with Brucey about the possibilities of actually re-engineering dinosaurs, and then discussing the possible financial costs and benefits of owning a dinosaur theme park.

"Just enjoy the movie," Clint finally growled, aiming popcorn at Tony and then both Bruces. Batman caught it before it connected with his head, and then popped it in his mouth.

At the end of the movie, Tony looked around. "Sequel, anyone?"

"Bedtime," Steve said.

"But, Moooom," Tony groused.

"I'm beat," Brucey agreed with Steve. "We've got more things to research in the morning."

"But dinosaurs," Tony protested.

"We can watch the others next time, you crybaby," Natasha said.

Bruce stood up and stretched, shirt rising slightly to reveal a sliver of pale abs. Steve quickly averted his gaze when he realized he had been staring.

"See you all in the morning," Bruce said before departing without another word.

"I like him," Natasha declared.

"Only because he can disappear like you do," Tony said.

She shrugged.

Clint smoothly slid off the armchair. "That's usually a reason not to like someone," he said, "but I agree. Cool dude. We need someone all taciturn and broody to weigh out your hyper, loud-mouth...ness."

"Like you're one to talk," Natasha quipped.

"I wonder if it's the displacement that makes him so broody, or if he's like that all the time," Brucey said.

"I think it's just him," Steve said, unable to stop the small smile from quirking his lips.

~

"You totally dig Mr. Tall, Dark, and Broody," Tony announced as he strolled into the gym.

"Shouldn't you be in the lab?" Steve asked as he pressed the bar up again, fighting the blush that was flooding his cheeks.

"I'm taking a break. We've been working all day, and Bruce-squared are working on a theory they're more qualified to discuss than me."

"You can't just teach yourself it?" Steve teased.

"If I had a whole night, obviously, but someone sent me to bed early," Tony pointed out, grinning. "And don't think I don't know what you're doing. We're talking about this. I'm your best friend. It's my right."

"Talking about what?"

Tony rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall beside Steve's bench. "The fact that you keep staring a one Bruce Wayne with those big, loving puppy-dog eyes that we both know you have."

"I'm not..." Steve objected, blush now overtaking his cheeks. "He's..."

"Go ahead. Gush," Tony prodded. "It's obvious you like him. And let's be honest, he's not hard to look at." He paused. "Also, I deserve a thank-you for not pointing out any 'hard' related puns."

"It doesn't bother you that I'm..."

"Gay as the Fourth of July? Nah, my gaydar's pretty flawless, and I had you figured out from the start."

"Bullshit," Steve said, setting down the bar and sitting up on the bench to look at Tony.

"Fine, but once I got to know you, I worked it out. I know sex, my friend, even if you don't," Tony said. "Plus, you'd have to be blind not to see that Batsy's gorgeous. I'm relatively straight, and I can admit that. Of course you're going to give him the googly eyes."

"It's not just a physical thing," Steve protested. "He's... pretty astounding."

Tony waggled his eyebrows.

"He is! He's in a situation like mine was, but he's adapting way quicker than I did. He's noble, jumping into our fight before he even got his feet on the ground in this world."

"You would have too, if SHIELD hadn't barged in to take over your life," Tony pointed out.

"Still, he's a good person. I just wish he weren't so sad, you know?"

"You never could resist a project."

Steve huffed. "I'm not some teenage girl looking for someone to 'fix.'"

"Yeah, well you still like him."

"Do you think anyone else noticed?" Steve asked, wincing slightly. "Do I really have puppy eyes?"

"Oh God, you really aren't doing them on purpose. Yes, Cap, you've got puppy-dog eyes. I thought the 'sad, abandoned, and disappointed' set was the worst, but that was before I saw the 'I have just met you, and I love you' version. It's not even directed at me, and it makes me want to give you cuddles and a treat."

"Stop making fun of me," Steve sighed.

"I'm serious. Bruce must be seriously emotionally oblivious if he hasn't seen it yet. And to answer your earlier question, everyone else probably noticed. You wear your heart on your sleeve."

"Or he doesn't want to notice," Steve pointed out. "He's lost in a new universe. The last thing he needs is unwanted attention."

"Yeah, or what he really needs is some Cap-loving. Like you said, he's stranded here. He might as well find some happiness."

"You think he might like me back?"

"I think this is what middle school would have been like if I hadn't skipped it. Yes. We just need to dissuade him from the angry, brooding celibate route he seems to be embracing," Tony assured him. "He already is totally comfortable with you, which he isn't with the rest of us."

"Yeah?" Steve asked hopefully.

"Absolutely," Tony said. "So go get 'em, tiger."


	5. The Avenger's Newest Recruit

"Bucky!"

His own shout startled him from his sleep. Now, after so many months, Steve no longer panicked at the feeling of his sheets restricting him, didn't need to adopt a fighting position immediately. Instead, he took a deep breath, centering himself.

He was in Stark Tower. The only ones with access were his team. It was 2012.

And Bucky was still never coming back.

He slid out from under his covers. Though Stark Tower had a perfectly controlled environment, temperature perfect despite the approaching winter, his sweat still felt too cool against his skin in the open air.

Without bothering to throw a robe over his pajamas, Steve padded on socked feet from his room to the main kitchen. The water in his bathroom sink was filtered, but he preferred slipping through the tower, hoping the dark, quiet hallways would be enough of a change in scenery for him to be able to fall back asleep later.

After staring blankly into the fridge for too long, Steve poured himself a glass of milk, and took a sip as he turned his gaze to the adjoining living room.

If it hadn't been for his serum-enhanced reflexes, Steve would not have been able to prevent his full glass from spilling. "Bruce?" he questioned, ready to fight if needed.

The dark figure on the couch nodded, and said, "It's me."

Steve relaxed slightly, and walked over. Once his eyes readjusted to the darkness after the bright light of the refrigerator, he was able to see that Bruce was just sitting on the couch and staring at nothing, wearing a black, long-sleeved shirt and the same style gray sweatpants as Steve.

Even in the faint light from the various electronics around the living room, Bruce's expression was still and unforgiving, as though he had been carved from stone.

Words sat on the tip of Steve's tongue, but he couldn't drudge up the energy to speak them. Instead, he took a seat at the other end of the couch, taking comfort in Bruce's solid presence.

At first, the silence weighed heavily on Steve, feeling as though he were letting down Bruce by not initiating a conversation. Tony would probably say that this would be the perfect time to try to connect more to Bruce, to start exploring the interest Steve was feeling. Remembered nightmares took the words from his throat, though, and simply didn’t have the energy to engage in any sort of real conversation. 

He worried idly for a while, but finally let go of those thoughts. It was the middle of the night, and Bruce clearly wasn’t looking for conversation either. The low thrum of the Tower’s constantly-running machinery and the steady rhythm of Bruce’s breathing made the tension slowly leak from Steve’s shoulders. 

The uneasiness in his mind softened, and he finally leaned back on the couch. He may not have been able to sleep, but his mind was no longer in a hyper-aware state, where his brain had felt like an exposed nerve.

On the couch beside him, Bruce was still and quiet, but his figure seemed less menacing. Maybe he too was not holding himself as tightly.

They both looked up when Tony slouched into the room. "Insomniacs club meeting and I wasn't even invited," Tony grumbled. "I invented this thing, I invented...insomnia. Yeah, yeah, that sounded dumb out loud. Scoot over, you giant, muscle-y, broody people." With even less social and physical grace than usual, Tony fell onto the edge of the couch, forcing Bruce to slide sideways or end up with a lap full of eccentric genius.

Bruce ended up shoulder-to-shoulder with Steve, sitting in the middle of the couch for what was probably the first time in his life.

"JARVIS? TV. Discovery Channel. Volume level four, as close to mute as you can get it."

The television flickered to life, revealing a pair of men watching a foam shark explode.

"I love those guys, we would be bros if their producers stopped blocking my phone-calls, but Mythbusters is not good for sleeping," Tony mumbled into Steve's shoulder. "When did Discovery become an awesome channel? JARVIS, go to something mind-numbing."

The channel switched to something on the ocean, displaying a shot of a school of fish swimming over a coral reef. "...diversity in this ecosystem. In fact, the red-bellied...," said a soothing narrator with a British accent.

"Sure, why the hell not," Tony said.

From experience, Steve just knew that Tony needed the lights to relax, as though technology itself was a comfort blanket for him. He glanced over at Bruce, who definitely preferred the dark, but the other man didn't look like he was about to slip off into the shadows. Tony was half-leaning on the other man, Bruce's frame seeming even bulkier in comparison with Tony's leaner form. Bruce met Steve's eyes, and his lips quirked, nodding towards the room's other billionaire. Steve just shrugged and smiled, since trying to explain Tony Stark required a mind far more active than Steve's was at that moment.

In the company of two other men who couldn't find sleep and didn't judge anyone else in the same position, with Bruce's warm presence by his side, Steve settled in to watch the documentary, the cold mountainside of his nightmare fading away.

\--

It took both Tony and SHIELD director Nick Fury to make Bruce agree, but by the end of the week, he found himself as the Avenger’s newest official recruit.

The sudden insistence from Fury that Bruce join the Avengers had surprised him, since unless they had caught wind of the new research going on in the Tower or someone had told them, SHIELD still had good reason to keep Bruce as far away from the Avengers as possible.  
In the end, Fury had said, "Well, apparently the Avengers have taken it upon themselves to include a new team member. It's better we accept it and handle the media storm on our own terms than have you pop out of the Quinjet during the next invasion." The director had paused, and then added casually, "We would, of course, appreciate if you could submit to the same physical and psych evals the rest of the team did before we put you on the payroll."

"I've sparred half the team, and talked to all of them. You'll have to trust their judgement," Bruce had replied, unwavering.

Fury had simply cursed tiredly under his breath before repeating the time and location of the press conference and hanging up.

Tony had managed to drag Bruce to his favorite tailor, and had been pleasantly surprised at Bruce's knowledge of quality tuxedoes. Though it had been entirely for his secret identity, Bruce had learned all about cuts and fabrics from Alfred and a string of tailors.

So, despite having lost the world in which Batman was his secret identity and Bruce Wayne was just the mask, Bruce found himself dressed and polished once again, standing on a stage beside the rest of the Avengers as Steve took the podium. There were reporters gathered, while in another ballroom waited a reception for the new Avenger to mingle with the city's most prominent figures.

Standing in front of the reporters, Bruce was struck more by the differences between Captain America and Superman. While Clark had also been the leader of their team, as well as their main public face, he had approached the press with the ease of someone who knew it from both sides. Steve had his battle-face on, prepared to face assault from all fronts, but his unease was obvious in comparison to his relaxation during their sparring matches or the team's movie nights. A set of small flash-cards were in his hand.

"Thank you all for coming. We're here today to introduce you to the Avenger's new recruit, Bruce Wayne, also known as Batman. Batman has proven himself an excellent ally in the fight to keep our city safe, and the Avengers are honored to have him on our team. The world will soon see the hero that Batman is, if they have not learned already."

When it seemed that Steve was finished, hands shot up across the audience. "Captain! Where did Batman come from?"

"He has trained for decades to fight crime, and is now doing so in New York City."

Steve began to step back from the podium, obviously determined to keep the conference short, when a reporter shouted, "Why are the Avengers so eager to allow a new member? Is there a new threat?"

Steve shook his head. "We're just taking advantage of the opportunity to expand our team."

"Are the Avengers accepting applications now?"

"No." Recovering from the abrupt answer, Steve added, "Not at this time."

"So, you simply find vigilantes and then give them power and authority?" someone else said.

There was a muscle twitching in Steve's jaw as he read from another flash-card. "The Avengers do not support vigilantes. They work in opposition to the safety of our nation by disrupting police and government work. Thank you."

This time when he stepped away from the podium, he didn't look back.

The Avengers retreated to the reception hall, ignoring the shouts of the reporters. Bruce supposed that the addition of a new superhero to the world's most-loved team would cause some surprise and interest, and he was more than accustomed to people saying that he was an untrustworthy vigilante.

"Good job, Cap. You didn't even attack anyone," Tony said, looking striking in his tuxedo.

"Attack?" Bruce repeated, amused.

"We need another YouTube marathon of Rogers versus reporters," Clint commented. He was walking with Natasha, who was wearing a long, black dress with a thigh-high slit. Bruce was surprised she allowed gender norms to put her in something so difficult to fight in, but knew if she was anything like him—which she was—that she had found some way to work around that. For example, Bruce had more than a dozen batarangs and other weapons stowed away under his well-tailored suit.

"Reporters often make thoughtless comments," Steve explained briefly.

"The first person who assumed that he was homophobic was so thoroughly owned by his response that she got fired within a week," Clint commented.

They entered the ballroom together, becoming the immediate center of attention, but Bruce murmured quietly to Steve, "I'll have to see that."

The team split up naturally to mingle with New York's most powerful.

Tony hovered around Bruce for a while, clearly the team's unofficial party guide, but when it became obvious that Bruce knew how to charm his way around a party, he wandered off.

With the restricting feel of a tux on and the smiles that were just like those of Gotham's elite, Bruce found himself smiling widely and making the sort of charming, light-hearted comments he had practiced at so many parties over the years. There is an endless stream of people wanting to introduce themselves to Bruce. At first, they hung back, obviously testing the waters. With a superhero like Dr. Banner in their midst, caution was wise, but soon Bruce's charm drew them all in.

He deflected questions about his past and his new association with the Avengers with ease, and kept all personal anecdotes free of any details that would show up false for this universe's timeline.

It was an easy role to slip back into, though it wore on his nerves to maintain it even here. Unlike at home, he was forced to tone down his louder opinions, since this world already had a Tony Stark, and maintaining his previous playboy persona was both uncreative and detrimental to public opinion of his once-secret identity.

He was in the middle of a group of older businessmen who felt it imperative that Bruce hear about their business conquests when Steve slid into the circle. Considering the breadth of his shoulders, it ended up appearing far more like shoving his way in, but his expression was appropriately contrite. "Mind if I borrow Bruce for a minute?" he asked. His expression may have been polite, but he left no room for argument, simply collecting Bruce and leaving the others behind.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked softly, eyes scanning the ballroom again to make sure he hadn't overlooked anything.

"Nothing," Steve replied. When Bruce gave him a disbelieving look, Steve added, "I don't like these things. Could you keep me company for a few minutes? If we look serious enough, they might leave us alone."

"It's worth a shot," Bruce said, and they settled at a corner table of the reception, close enough to still be obviously present, but far enough away to make their desire for privacy clear. They sat in companionable silence for a moment, Bruce cataloging the exits once more, before he admitted,  
"I don't like them either."

"I could tell."

Bruce looked over at him, eyebrows raised slightly. "I looked like I was having a great time," he argued.

"That was sort of the give-away," Steve said, laughing softly. "I haven't seen you smile that much since I've met you." His face took on a more serious expression, and he said, "Tony does the same thing you do. He puts on his socialite-smile and goes to work. But he actually drinks the liquor instead of walking around with a full glass. He's not as bad as he apparently used to be, but he's no teetotaler."

Bruce thought that over. "Tony and I both grew up with this type of thing. He might have stayed around for the experience, but this was my cover back home. I acted as differently from Batman as I could so no one could connect my identities."

"You don't have a secret identity here," Steve pointed out. "You can just be Bruce."

Bruce stilled. "I'm not sure who that is. Bruce Wayne has been my real mask for years. And Batman is a symbol. He's never going to be a man in a ballroom."

"Then it sounds like you've got the opportunity to decide who you want to be," Steve said. "There are plenty of people who would love that chance."

"Would you?" Bruce wondered.

Steve shook his head. "I think I would still be me, even if I got to do it all over again."

Bruce looked at the blonde man sitting beside him. He looked slightly uncomfortable in his tuxedo, but comfortable and self-aware, still Steve Rogers whether in suspenders or formalwear. Here, Captain America was a symbol, and the man behind the mask lived up to the standard of the hero. Steve honestly stood for the values Captain America fought for.

Bruce reached up and caught a flying olive just before it connected with Steve's head. Tossing it on the table, he shot a glare across the ballroom at Clint, who was grinning cheekily from the table he was sharing with Natasha.

"They're getting restless," Steve commented.

"I know the type," Bruce said, thinking of The Flash. The man might have been brash at times, but Bruce missed him and the rest of the League all the same. Where were they now, while he relaxed at an expensive reception? How was his world coping in his absence? He wasn't the glue that held the team together, not like Clark, and likely weren't devastated by his loss. There, unlike here, Bruce was the only one on the team with nothing more unique to offer than cleverness, training, and deep pockets.

"At least he's aiming at us instead of the mayor this time," Steve mused, recalling Bruce out of his brooding.

"I'm surprised you all are still welcome in this city, sometimes," Bruce teased lightly.

"Me too," Steve admitted. "It probably has more to do with Coulson smoothing everything over than anything we've done. Public opinion is fickle."

"Always," Bruce agreed, jaw tense.

The music changed, and the soldier's expression went from rueful to melancholy, a wistful nostalgia in his eyes. From the crooning voice and soothing instrumentation, Bruce could tell it was a song from Steve's original time. He shook his head when a ridiculous suggestion crossed his mind. First of all, the goddamned Batman didn't dance, and he wasn't playboy Bruce Wayne here. Secondly, they were in a crowded room of New York's most powerful, and their whole team. Thirdly, he doubted Steve would be remotely interested in--

"Would you like to dance?" Steve's voice was steady, but there was a blush on his cheeks that was making its way down his neck.

Bruce blinked, trying to remember why he had just thought that was a terrible idea.

"We can go out on the balcony," Steve offered, a little smile on his face.

And Bruce found himself on his feet without further prompting, following the blonde soldier out of the central room. Outside, they were in the shadows, and could look in on the well-lit ballroom without anyone noticing them. The return to the shadows gave Bruce a burst of confidence, and he held out a hand to Steve.

With a blush adorning his cheeks that was visible even outside, Steve stepped in close and accepted Bruce's hand, pulling it up to rest on his shoulder as he put his own hands around Bruce's waist.

Their sudden proximity made Bruce's heart jump. Steve was a solid presence, simultaneously stabilizing Bruce while making his blood pound and his skin tingle. With slight hesitance, Bruce moved his other arm so that both were on Steve's broad shoulders, able to feel his shifting muscles as they swayed slowly to the old song.

Bruce slowly relaxed, allowing himself to enjoy Steve's presence.

The song changed smoothly into one that Bruce actually recognized, to his slight embarrassment. It kept the same heartfelt quality, but the brass instruments made it less sad.

"You know this one?" Steve asked softly, and Bruce could feel the vibrations through his chest.

He realized he had been humming along quietly, and nodded.

"It's from my time," Steve told him. "I always thought it was beautiful."

"It is," Bruce agreed. He listened to the familiar lyrics.

"But now I'm the sad and lonely one..."

The song still spoke to him, but realized the words were no longer true for him personally.

Here on a New York City terrace, slow-dancing with Steve Rogers, Bruce wasn't alone anymore.


	6. Shawarma is a team deal

“What are we looking at?” Steve’s voice came through Bruce’s new helmet over the comm system. 

The Avengers were assembling on Brooklyn Bridge. Bruce had been roaming the city, a habit he had been able to resume once his back had mostly healed, and was meeting the rest of the team there. From the muffled background noise over the comms, Bruce assumed that Steve had hitched a ride on Tony’s armor. 

Coulson’s unflappable voice responded, “Giant centipedes.”

“We talking like snake-size, or school-bus?” Tony asked.

“Multiple school-buses.”

“Lovely.”

“Threat level?” Steve asked. 

“Orange, but they do not seem to be specifically targeting civilians. However, each foot has the power to punch through the hood of a car, and each one has at least two hundred legs.”

“Sounds like someone’s been playing around with genetic experimentation. Haven’t they learned that there’s literally no good reason to make something small and harmless into something gigantic?” Clint complained. “Oh, sorry, Bruce.”

“And how many are there?” Steve continued.

“At least a dozen,” Coulson said. “ETA?”

“Five minutes,” Steve said. 

“Here,” Bruce added as he hooked a batarang around one of the beams of the bridge and swung up, putting him several dozen yards above the beasts swarming the long bridge. There were cars and trucks packed bumper-to-bumper, as usual for that time in the afternoon, but most had been abandoned when the enormous bugs had appeared. 

"Wait for us to make your move," Steve instructed.

Movement in the corner of his eye caught Bruce's attention. There was a woman struggling to unbuckle her child's car-seat before the nearest centipede reached her. With fumbling fingers and another child already in one arm, she wasn't going to make it time.

Bruce swung down from his spot on top of the bridge, throwing a batarang at the centipede to slow its approach, and landing by the car. Using his razor-edged arm-guards, Bruce sliced through the uncooperative seatbelt.

Nearly sobbing with relief, the woman collected the child with her other arm.

"Run," Bruce said, already turning towards the centipedes.

The woman scrambled away, weaving through cars.

The centipede had lost an antenna in the batarang's explosion, which was even larger than usual thanks to Tony's contributions, but it continued forward, another centipede close on its tail.

Bruce raced forward to meet it, swerving at the last minute so he could shoot his grappling hook at one of the many legs, before using a car to stabilize himself and swing sideways, jerking the creature's leg from under it. Despite the plethora of spares, it was enough to disrupt the centipede from its original path, sending it colliding into the second one, which had just arrived alongside it. Like two trains crashing, the centipedes fell in a pile of limbs, skidding forward across the bridge and taking out several dozen cars. Bruce had to leap sideways and hold on to one of the bridge's suspension cables to avoid being crushed.

One of the legs caught on the cable, however, jerking it sideways so quickly that Bruce's grip slipped, and he began falling towards the East River.

He was in the process of using his cape to slow his descent while quickly reloading his grappling hook to use it to stop his fall when a blur of red and silver appeared in the corner of his eye, and strong arms suddenly caught him in mid-air.

"Thanks," he told Thor.

The rest of the Avengers had arrived. Iron Man, carrying Steve, flew in over them, landing on the bridge and diving immediately into the fight. A black jet was only a few hundred yards behind. As Bruce watched, a figure jumped from the plane, turning green and growing at least six times its original size before landing.

"I see you started without us," Thor said, flying up towards the fight. "I hope you have saved some enemies for us to best as well!"

"Oh, you'll get plenty of action," Bruce assured him once he had caught his breath from the sudden catch.

When they reached the top of the bridge, the battle between the Avengers and the invaders was already well under way. Despite the size of the centipedes, the team worked efficiently against them. The Hulk was not fazed at all by the size discrepancy, grabbing a centipede by the antennae and throwing it over the side of the bridge.

Thor dropped Bruce close enough for him to drop into a roll and continue forward without losing momentum as the demigod flew over him to collide with a centipede that had nearly crushed Natasha under a enormous pointed leg.

"These are some ugly motherfuckers," Tony said, blasting one with a repulsor pulse that barely slowed it.

"No swearing on the comm lines," Steve corrected.

Bruce dodged between the legs of one of the centipedes which had dodged the others and was getting too close to the other side of the bridge. The goal was to contain the monster bugs before they made it to the center of Manhattan, where they could do substantial damage.

Since the batarang explosion had not been enough to stop the first one Bruce had encountered, Bruce flung a pair at a parked car a few yards in front of the centipede's head. By the time the batarangs connected with the rusty car's gas tank, the centipede was directly over it. It wasn't pretty. Apparently, when the centipedes died, they disintegrated into a thick purple goo.

Bruce jumped backwards to avoid the viscous liquid, in case it was poisonous, and then realized his error in judgment. Another centipede had appeared out of nowhere, and Bruce had moved directly into its path. A large leg was already on its way towards him, and it was too late to move away.

Suddenly, there was a wet thud, and the leg which had been coming towards Bruce was knocked completely off the centipede's body, falling into a nearby car and piercing the hood.

Bruce looked over, just in time to see Steve catch the rebounding shield from where he was standing on a white sedan a few yards away from Bruce.

Bruce rolled out of the way, coming to a stop by the car just before an exploding arrow from Clint hit the bug just as it was leaving the bridge, sending out a spray of purple goo.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked him.

"Fine," Bruce replied, and then added, "Thanks."

Steve gave him a nod, and then turned to help the others.

Since the centipedes were far larger than they were intelligent, it didn't take the Avengers much more time to remove the problem. Brooklyn Bridge may have ended up covered in a layer of purple goo, just like the team, but at least it and the city beyond were still standing.

"At least this stuff isn't acidic, or something," Clint said, swinging down from his perch on top of the bridge.

"You barely even got splattered," Natasha said, though her bodysuit had still escaped with less damage than Steve and Bruce's uniforms.

"Shawarma?" Tony asked, landing in the center of the group.

"Debrief first. And showers," Steve said. "Then shawarma."

"And you can't beg out this time, Batsy," Tony said, clapping him on one goo-covered shoulder. "Shawarma is a team deal."

"If we can shower before the debrief, I'll come," Bruce said.

"Done," Steve replied.

Though it took nearly an entire bar of soap to dislodge the purple substance behind his ears, Bruce finished the day feeling lighter than he had in a long time. Working with the team as an official member was a new experience for Bruce. With the Justice League, he had helped when needed, but at the end of the day he was back in Gotham, protecting the city alone from the shadows. Here, the only thing he had to do after the fight was eat with the team, and then watch the third Jurassic Park film in the Avengers' Tower central living room, relaxing alongside Steve and the rest of the team.

Maybe Steve had been right. Here, Bruce could just be Bruce.

\--

"I bet I can make the boom even boom-ier. And you'd be stupid to bet against me," Tony said the next day while they were in his lab.

Bruce was inspecting his uniform, cleaning out an errant bits of goo which had made their way inside his uniform, making sure it didn't interfere with any of the new wiring in his cowl.

"I prefer stealth to... booms," Bruce replied.

"Boring," Tony sing-songed. "Also, was I right or was I right about the awesomeness of post-battle shawarma? Do they have shawarma where you come from?"

"I never saw any shops in Gotham, but had it in Pakistan," Bruce told him.

"I’ve flown over Pakistan, but never touched down. Was it nice?”

"Not the part I saw," Bruce admitted.

"What is it with you Bruces and slumming it in third-world countries?" Tony asked.

"I don't know about Dr. Banner, but I was training. You can't fight the worst until you've experienced it."

"So, one day, billionaire Bruce Wayne wakes up and thinks, 'I want to become a crime-fighter,' and then slums it in Asia until he can kick some ass?" Tony questioned.

"We all have our reasons for why we do what we do here," Bruce said.

"Yeah, but you already know my reason. Don't pretend you didn't hack the files to get all the gritty origin stories before you agreed to join our team."

Bruce had. SHIELD's files were as clinical as expected, and Bruce had not come to see the Avengers as friends when he had first read them. On paper, they seemed cut and dry. As with Bruce, a traumatic event or several had sparked the drive that caused them to suit up and put their lives on the line. However, imagining his team's faces as they went through what they had made it made him almost wish he had left the files alone.

"My parents were killed by muggers when I was eight years old," Bruce said, voice as expressionless as he could make it. "I was there."

"Ouch," Tony said with real sympathy.

"I swore that night to do all I could to stop anyone else from having the same experience," Bruce continued.

"The revenge motive," Tony said thoughtfully.

"Justice," Bruce corrected.

"But you're still doing this for someone else. That makes you a better person than me."

"You think you're just doing this for yourself?" Bruce asked.

"I am doing this for myself. Redemption is the name of the game. Most of our team is here for it, in some way," Tony said. They spoke as they worked, not looking fully at each other, but Bruce saw the tension in Tony's shoulders.

"That makes you better than most people in the world--mine or yours. Not everyone cares enough to look for redemption," Bruce said. "You're doing a noble thing."

"And that is the perfect seque into something I've been meaning to tell you. You're also doing a noble thing, and if you break his heart, there may be a tragic malfunction of your equipment. And I'm not talking about the batarangs."

Bruce's hands actually fumbled with the tool he was using, so he set it down and turned to Tony in surprise. "I think there's been a misunderstanding here," he said. "I'm not with Steve."

"Are you fucking kidding me? This guy faces down Nazis and he can't... Okay, well, when it does happen, just pretend I gave you that little speech then."

"You sound sure something's going to happen," Bruce noted, feeling slightly overwhelmed. Relationships as playboy Bruce Wayne, he could handle. He still had his true self separate, so never made any real connections. Steve was already inside Bruce's barriers, and that made Bruce vulnerable. He hadn't thought that they had the possibility to become something more than friends, that Bruce's heart would be able to stay safe.

"Don't you want it to?" Tony inquired, raising his eyebrows.

"Um," Bruce said. He was entirely out of his depth here. How did Batman go about having a romantic relationship? He was a symbol, he was removed from the rest of the world. Or he had been.

Tony clapped Bruce on the back. "Romantically incompetent, the both of you. Luckily, I, too, was scared of commitment and the L-word for many years. Here on the other side, I can promise you it's worth it."

Bruce had met Tony's long-term girlfriend, Pepper Potts, briefly, but memorably. She had strode into the Tower in dangerously high shoes, snapped out a series of orders, introduced herself to Bruce, accepted a kiss from Tony, and then swept back out.

When Bruce stayed silent, Tony laughed. "Loosen up, man. It'll be fine."

\--

The team seemed to think they were being subtle, but for all of Steve's occasional obliviousness, he could spot a tactical maneuver when it was in operation.

Still, he didn't bother calling them out on it as they maneuvered Bruce and Steve onto the loveseat, ensuring that they ended up pressed together for the duration of Die Hard.

Steve shot a reprimanding look at Tony when he caught his eye over Bruce's head, but his friend just winked.

They all enjoyed the film, able to relate to the man forced into ingenuity by a desperate situation, and Steve finally learned why Tony occasionally shouted "Yippee-kay-yay, motherfucker" as he blew something up.

Once the film finished, the rest of the team deserted the TV room with a series of excuses, leaving Bruce and Steve alone in the quiet room. Steve waited for Bruce to slip away as well, but he seemed unlikely to move. During the movie, they had ended up slightly leaning into each other, and Steve was quite comfortable.

"Some people," Bruce said softly, "get thrown into situations where they have to be heroes. But we chose this. I was talking to Tony earlier about why. He made mistakes he wants to fix. I was wronged, and decided to make the world a better place." Bruce stopped there abruptly, but Steve caught the implied question.

"Nothing terrible happened to me personally," Steve admitted. "I never liked bullies, and when I was offered the serum, I saw the chance to make a difference."

"And you have," Bruce told him. "Most of us start out because of something traumatic-- you picked this life, and got something traumatic as your reward."

"I would have gone into that war with or without that serum. No one there made it out without painful memories," Steve told him. "It doesn't matter why we do it-- it just matters that we do."

Bruce cleared his throat. "I respect you. Deeply. You're one of the most honorable men I've ever had the fortune to work with, much less become close with. You had the courage to look at a bad situation, actively decide to help, and then leave your comfort zone an ocean behind to do so. Bravery isn't just about being willing to jump into battle. That can become a habit. It's doing something different, becoming who you want to be, and not letting fear stop you."

"Well, yes," Steve agreed. "But it's not like you haven't done the same. You got thrown into a new world, and you adapted so you could keep saving people."

"So we're both brave," Bruce said, a faint smile tugging his lips. "And far better about talking about noble ideals and weaponry than we are about our personal lives. So, for me, this is bravery."

Steve's eyes widened when Bruce suddenly bridged the gap between them and kissed him. Bruce's lips were warm and slightly chapped, pressing gently against Steve's. Once Steve processed what was happening, he quickly twisted his body to face Bruce more fully, and met the kiss.

At first, Bruce was tense, the kiss more of a declaration than an action. However, once Steve began kissing back, he relaxed slightly. Steve ran a hand through Bruce's short hair, and then ran a hand over the warm, broad expanse of Bruce's back, putting both reassurance and enthusiasm into the kiss.

They broke apart after a few minutes, and the hesitsant smile he got from Bruce made his answering smile that much brighter.

“Only you two would start making out by making noble speeches at each other,” Tony said loudly, strolling back into the room. 

“Tony…” Steve said threateningly. 

“Just saying, if someone hot and totally perfect for me had appeared from an alternate universe, we would have started fucking weeks ago.”

A pillow thrown by Bruce hit Tony directly in the stomach with enough force to make him lose his breath. “Wow, good throw, maybe you should get Cap to let you borrow his shield sometime. He probably won’t say no, since you’re…” He waggled his eyebrows dramatically.

“Go away, Tony,” Steve said. 

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” Tony promised. “I just had to grab my tablet.” He picked up the aforementioned tech from the coffee table, and ducked back out of the room, leaving them with one final wink.

Steve smiled sheepishly at Bruce, who just chuckled. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”

“I’m not even used to it,” Steve admitted, before leaning in for another kiss.


	7. A Bitter Edge to the Air

The next morning, Bruce was walking to the kitchen when he smelled smoke. He sped up for a few yards until he heard the accompanying sounds of bickering. Business as usual in the Avengers Tower. 

“First of all, the Google says I was right about adding baking powder, Tony. This isn’t one of your inventions. You can’t just change things and hope for a better result,” Steve was saying. 

“Then how can we ever improve?” Tony asked with a philosophical tone that made Bruce wonder if the other man had slept at all since he’d last seen him. 

“They’re pancakes,” Steve responded. 

“Doesn’t mean there’s not room for improvement,” Tony said. “Besides, these look gross.”

“Because you burned them! I was only in the other room for thirty seconds, and I told you to watch them.”

Bruce entered the room to see Steve dumping a blackened pancake into the trashcan while Tony leaned on the counter beside him and gulped his coffee. “Good morning,” he greeted. 

Steve looked up at him with distraught eyes. Bruce wondered when he had begun to be affected by the soldier’s “puppy-dog eyes,” as Tony called them when they forced him to help clean up the streets after a battle, or volunteer at a hospital. Still, Bruce didn’t think he’d ever seen the guilty version of Steve’s expressions, and wasn’t sure how to take it. Was Steve regretting their kiss from last night? “I burnt the pancakes,” Steve told him.

“All right,” Bruce said, raising an eyebrow when there was no further explanation forthcoming.

“Your pancakes. Pancakes for you. Good morning, I love you, I wanna suck your dick pancakes,” Tony explained between gulps of coffee.

“No thanks,” Bruce replied dryly. 

Steve had turned bright red. “Just pancakes. Well, they were going to be your pancakes.”

“Maybe we should just go out for breakfast,” Bruce offered.

Grinning, Steve agreed. 

Ignoring Tony’s catcalls, the duo managed to leave the Tower without further incident. 

“Do you want pancakes, or something smaller? I know you don’t really eat breakfast,” Steve said as they walked. It was a crisp morning in New York City, with a bitter edge to the air that hinted at an approaching cold snap. It was nearly Thanksgiving, and the weather was only going to get worse as they moved forward.

“I can order something small anywhere,” Bruce reminded him. “I’m fine with wherever you want to go.” 

They ended up at a small café that looked familiar to Bruce, but he didn’t recognize it until Steve greeted the barista with a friendly smile. “Morning, Darcy.”

“Hi, Steve,” the woman greeted. “Cold as balls out, isn’t it?” She had a thick maroon scarf over her work uniform, despite being inside. “People keep opening the door and letting the wind in.”

“It’s not so bad,” Steve said. 

“Yeah, you’ve both got all those muscles to keep you warm and is that Batman?” she exclaimed without pausing. 

Bruce glanced around the shop instinctively, but the only person close enough to overhear was a disinterested-looking businessman absorbed in reading the Times. He was still getting used to having an open identity. A few days ago, he had nearly rappelled up the nearest building to get away from a group of teenage girls who had approached him, giggling, asking for autographs. 

“Bruce,” Steve corrected. “Bruce, this is Darcy.”

“You know, I actually met you here during my second day… here,” Bruce said to Steve even as he nodded his greeting to the barista. 

“Really?” Steve asked, surprised. 

Darcy laughed out loud, and then smirked. “I knew I recognized you! Tall, dark, and handsome here got chatted up by Tony a few weeks ago.” 

“Oh,” Steve said. 

Bruce gave him a small smile. “I paid more attention when a blonde soldier came in to drag him away,” Bruce told him. “And then I actually met Tony.”

Steve laughed at that, and looked at Darcy. “How’s the breakfast here?”

“Delicious,” Darcy said promptly. “How do you think I keep my curves so curvy? I can’t just survive on coffee like some people. All of this is freshly made. Let me know if you want a special order put in. I can make the cook whip you up something. He’s wrapped around my little finger.”

“I heard that!” shouted a voice from a back room. 

“And I don’t hear you denying it!” Darcy called back. 

Bruce ordered a black coffee and a croissant while Steve politely requested an egg sandwich and a mocha. They settled into a pair of dark leather chairs in the corner of the restaurant, sitting so that they could both see the entrance. Small paranoid quirks were common in the superhero crowd. 

For that reason, Bruce could scarcely believe how comfortable he felt sitting next to Steve. The solider’s blue eyes were attentive, and held an undeniable spark of affection that rarely had been directed at Bruce. Steve seemed genuinely happy just to sit beside Bruce and drink coffee, chatting casually about how much better baseball had been in the forties, and how coffee was the same in every universe.

Unfortunately, there was no rest for the wicked, and that meant no downtime for the good, either. 

When Steve’s emergency line began ringing, they both snapped to attention. Steve answered immediately, and Bruce could hear Tony shouting over the line, clearly in the middle of a fight. “Didn’t want to disturb you, Cap, but we’ve got a problem over here on Main, but we’re trying to take the fight to Central Park to avoid civilian casualities. A half dozen people just showed up. Costumes say supervillains. We wouldn’t have called you two in, but—hey!—they’re good. We’re all assembled over here except you two, and they’re not going down easy.”

“Of course,” Steve said. “Do you have my shield?” They both stood up, leaving behind their half-eaten breakfast. 

“Coulson brought it along with your uniforms. He’ll have a car on the scene within five. What’s your ETA?”

“We’re not far. Give us five,” Steve said. He hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket. “Did you get that?” he asked Bruce. 

Bruce nodded, and they broke into a run without needing to say anything else. 

It was clear when they got to the scene once they reached the crowd of New Yorkers, some trying to run, others getting jostled by the crowd as they filmed the fight. In addition to the five Avengers already on the scene, there were at least four more costumed figures fighting on the edge of Central Park. Bruce located Coulson’s car and entered immediately, movements quick and focused. Coulson practically threw their costumes at them, and they dressed with practiced efficiency. “Sit rep?” Steve asked. 

“No one down yet on either side. Five of them. Most look human, but are clearly enhanced, all in different ways. A few can fly, there’s some super-strength, and at least one shape-shifter.”

Steve nodded and caught the shield that Coulson threw at him. “Cap here,” he said, and the sound registered through the comm link in the cowl Bruce had just pulled over his head.

“I am pleased to hear that you are joining this fight!” Thor exclaimed. “They are most worthy opponents.”

“Why won’t this fucker stop moving? God, I can barely see him,” Clint complained. 

Bruce was starting to get a strange feeling, a twisting anticipation in his stomach that he didn’t recognize until he and Steve approached the fight and Bruce was able to get a closer look. In the sky, there were two figures with red capes circling each other while Tony shot repulsor blasts at a winged woman. For a split second, Bruce thought that Banner’s radioactivity had suddenly increased, but realized that a separate green forcefield was surrounding the giant, keeping him still despite the Hulk’s thrashing. 

Hawkeye was out of sight, but there was a trail of arrows at the heels of a red-and-gold blur that darted through the parked cars lining the street. Natasha was a blur of black against a green-skinned opponent who literally moved his skin to dodge her blows. 

For the first time since he could remember, Bruce was so surprised that his breath literally caught in his throat. He darted forward, putting himself directly in the path of the red-and-gold blur. At first, it went right past him, and then the Flash suddenly skidded to halt in front of him. “Batsy?!” he exclaimed, grinning widely. “Always showing up in the nick of time. These guys are brutal.” 

“Stand down!” Bruce ordered into the comms. 

“You know these guys, Bruce?” Hawkeye asked over the comms. Bruce could practically see the target on Flash’s unmoving back. 

“This is the Justice League,” Bruce exclaimed. “Stop trying to kill them.” Bruce narrowed his eyes at Flash. “That goes for you all, too. These people aren’t your enemy.” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, guys, Batman is here, and he’s cool with these guys!” Flash said into his own communication system. 

It took a few minutes to bring the fighting to a full halt, especially when the Hulk tried to smash every time he was released from Green Lantern’s forcefield. Finally, the two teams stood on the street, facing each other suspiciously. When Superman landed, however, already apparently at peace with Thor, he walked straight up to Bruce. “Batman?” he asked. 

Bruce nodded. “It’s me.” He tensed when Clark grabbed him into a tight hug, but then returned the embrace. “It’s me,” he repeated.

“Who’re your friends?” Hawkgirl asked, mace crackling in her grip. Part of her uniform looked slightly singed, and her glare was centered on Tony. 

“These are the Avengers, this world’s version of us,” Bruce explained. “The one Green Lantern is containing is the Hulk, and this is Iron Man, Black Widow, Hawkeye, Thor, and Captain America.”

“Call me Steve,” the solider said, stepping forward to shake Clark’s hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“He doesn’t even have wings,” Hawkgirl muttered, looking Clint over with a sneer.

“At least we don’t have an alien on our team,” Clint retorted. Both Martian Manhunter and Thor looked offended, and Natasha smacked the back of Clint’s head. 

“You might have guessed from what I’ve told you, but this is Superman, Green Lantern, the Flash, Hawkgirl, and Martian Manhunter,” Bruce introduced his current team to his old one.

“The Flash, huh?” Tony said, face-plate snapping up to reveal his smirk. “I thought about making that my name, but Pepper said I’d get arrested. But, Bruce, why didn’t you mention your team was so hot?”

“Pig,” Hawkgirl replied. 

“Anybody want to explain—” Green Lantern began, but the Flash interrupted. 

“Why nobody here is black?” the Flash guessed. “I know, I was wondering the same thing. Doesn’t every team need one token black guy?”

“I was going to say that someone should explain to this guy that he doesn’t need to squash us,” Green Lantern corrected with a gesture to the Hulk, deep voice conveying his amused frustration.

“I think everyone needs to take a deep breath. We’re all on the same side here,” Clark said. 

“You are all valiant warriors, friends of Bruce!” Thor exclaimed, ignoring the tension.

The Justice League all sent looks of varying shock to Bruce, who explained with a shrug, “Secret identities aren’t very popular here.”

“Are we sure this is Bats?” the Flash asked loudly. 

“It’s him,” Superman assured him. 

“We need to hurry,” J’onn added. “The portal will be opening again in less than five minutes.”

“It’s a good thing we found you so quickly,” Clark said. “We weren’t sure what we were going to do if we couldn’t.”

“How did you get here?” Bruce finally asked. 

“It took us a long time, but we tracked down the Mystic Dame. She had hidden the amulet she used to send you here, but we found it. Wonder Woman stayed behind, and she was going to re-open the portal in the same place an hour after we landed. She wanted to come herself, but we needed someone back on our side. It was low on energy, so we didn’t have a large window to stay here and search for you.”

“It’s good we happened upon you,” J’onn said. “Earth is not the same without Batman.”

“This is Earth, too,” Tony protested.

“Are you ready to leave?” Clark asked, smiling. 

Bruce hesitated. Suddenly, everything seemed to be happening too fast. On one side stood the Justice League, his first team, the first ones to teach him what being on a team meant. They could take him home to Alfred, home to Gotham.

But here were the Avengers. And they were the ones who taught him what it meant to have a family. However, looking over them now, he couldn’t read their thoughts, couldn’t see any objection to him sliding back through another portal. Clint and Hawkgirl were still eyeing each other angrily. Natasha was as expressionless as ever, standing slightly forward so that she could step between Clint and Shayera if needed. Banner was still in his other form, and was clearly not paying attention to anything other than the green shield keeping him contained. Thor was smiling, examining the other team with interest, especially Hawkgirl’s mace. There was a frown firmly on Tony’s face as his eyes darted from the Justice League, to Bruce, to Steve. 

Bruce followed his gaze to Steve, who was still standing at Bruce’s side. The solider smiled at him. “You get to go home,” he said, putting a hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

Schooling his expression—Batman didn’t get disappointed—Bruce nodded once to Steve, and then looked back to Clark. “Let’s go,” he said.

As he stood amongst the Justice League, not listening to the Flash chattering away in his ear about their journey to find the portal-opening amulet, Bruce looked at the Avengers, who had clumped together to watch him leave. 

As a bright gold flash took over his body, Bruce told himself that the ache in his chest was from traveling through the portal, not from leaving behind the only place he had ever been able to simply be Bruce. 

That was over now, and Batman had business to tend to back in Gotham.

\--

There was a flash of gold light, and the six other superheroes disappeared from the streets of New York. A winter breeze cut through Steve’s uniform, chilling him to the bone, reminding him of decades in ice. He told himself that he was happy for Bruce, but he could only think of the fact that he had just lost one more person he loved.

“This sucks,” Tony declared.

Clint’s expression was dark. “I guess we’re done here.” After a moment, the Avengers turned to make their way back to the Tower, one team member short.

Natasha’s hand rested on Steve’s shoulder briefly as she passed him. 

Tony stopped in front of him. “Want a ride back?” he asked. 

“I think I’ll walk,” Steve said. 

With a nod, Tony said, “See you there, Cap.” He hesitated for a moment, expression torn, and then his face-plate snapped down, and he took off, his red-and-gold suit streaking up into the sky.

Steve cast one more look to the spot where Bruce had last stood, and then straightened his back and turned back towards the Tower. 

This was for the best.


	8. A New Journey

Steve stretched his fingers, feeling the bloody skin over his knuckles knitting itself together. He had busted through another punching bag, his tenth this week. Even the fact that Tony had used the blow-resistant fabric he and both Bruces had developed for their uniforms didn't help-- if anything, it made it worse.

Bruce Wayne had never been a loud presence in the Tower, so his absence shouldn't have been so glaring obvious, but it was.

He tried to wipe the sweat from his face with the hem of his shirt, but discovered that it was also soaked. Suddenly, he wondered just how long he had been in the gym. Even his enhanced muscles had developed a slight tremor from the hard work-out.

Tossing a towel around his neck, he headed up to the kitchen to see if he had any Gatorade left. With this group, it was one thing that was constantly on their grocery list.

He was so focused on his goal that he was halfway into the kitchen before he realized that there were already people there.

"I told you, he won't let me in," Brucey was saying.

"But you're Science Bros!" Clint argued.

"You know that doesn't matter when he gets in one of his moods," Brucey sighed.

Steve half-listened as he went to the fridge, grabbed the first Gatorade he saw despite its bright blue color, and chugged it.

"JARVIS says he's not eating, except when Dummy throws a smoothie at him," Natasha told them. "But he won't say what he's working on."

Tossing the empty bottle into the recycling bin, Steve asked, "Tony's not eating?"

They looked over at him, eyebrows raised. "Look who woke up," Clint said.

"I wasn't sleeping," Steve said, confused.

"You might as well have been," Natasha said.

"Why didn't anyone come get me about Tony? I have the override for his workshop," Steve continued.

Natasha and Clint exchanged a glance, and Bruce explained delicately, "Because you haven't been much better."

Straining, Steve tried to remember the last time he'd spoken to anyone beyond a single-word answer. "I've been eating," he said weakly.

"Maybe you should go down and talk to him. You two were closest to..." Clint trailed.

"He's not dead," Steve snapped. "You can say his name." Without giving them a chance to respond, he grabbed another Gatorade bottle and a box of energy bars from the cabinet. "I'll go talk to Tony."

He could hear the pulsing bass line of whatever music Tony was blasting by the time he reached the bottom of the stairs. Considering the workshop was supposed to be soundproof, Steve had to wonder if Tony's eardrums were still intact.

Thankfully, JARVIS muted the music when Steve punched in the code to enter the workshop. It was technically for emergencies, but he wasn't in the mood to coax Tony into opening the door for him.

"Busy," Tony shouted over the shrill sound of his blowtorch welding two sheets of metal together. Since the last time Steve had been there, Tony had set up a half-finished metal circle in the middle of his workshop, his tables pushed aside to make room.

"Do something that takes one hand," Steve said, tossing an energy bar at the businessman.

Tony just barely managed to catch it before it hit his face, nearly dropping the welding torch. Turning off the device, he turned to Steve. "Problem?"

"Apparently, you haven't eaten in days," Steve said. "People are getting worried."

"You?" Tony asked.

"I prefer you alive," Steve admitted.

Tony finally gave him his attention, and his eyes latched immediately on Steve's busted knuckles. Under Tony's stare, Steve realized he was still wearing his workout clothes, and his shirt was cooling uncomfortably on his torso. "You look like shit," Tony commented, tearing open the energy bar and biting off a large chunk.

"Thanks, Tony," Steve said drily.

"Regrets?" Tony asked through his chewing.

Steve sighed. "I couldn't ask him to stay here. Not when he had the chance to go home. I couldn't make someone else go through leaving their world behind forever, even if I wanted him here."

"If I told you this was a time machine, and you could go right back to where you left off in the 40s, but once you got there you couldn't come back, would you do it?"

Steve was silent for a long moment, then finally replied, "No."

"Good, 'cause this isn't a time machine," Tony said.

"What is it?"

"Don't you watch TV? Oh wait, don't answer that. It's obviously a trans-dimensional portal opener machine...thing."

"Obviously," Steve said, though his voice caught slightly as he spoke. "So this..."

"I figure Bruce shouldn't get off the hook of being an honorary Science Bro just because he bailed the universe. Just because their portal opener was low on juice doesn't mean that was the only way to get to and from our universes. As Bruce had asked, I was already looking into ways to open up another portal."

"And you figured it out?"

"Work-in-progress. But, come on, Cap-- I'm Tony Stark. Physics be damned, if I say I can make it happen, I can make it happen."

Steve frowned. "What about the--"

"I can make it happen. Eventually. What do you say? Want to make a Justice League and Avengers cross-over?"

"What?"

"Do you want to see Batsy again?"

Steve nodded. "Yes."

Tony shoved the rest of the energy bar into his mouth, and spoke around it as he stood up. "Then come over here and hold up this piece while I weld it on."

\--

Three hours later, Natasha walked calmly into the lab, grabbed them both by the ear, and dragged them to bed, telling them that they could keep working in the morning.

\--

A week into their fruitless work, there was a loud knock on the glass doors of Tony's workshop. Steve glanced over, wondering if it was already time for someone to be dragging them away from the portal machine.

Thor stood beaming at them, a petite brunette tucked against his side.

"Let 'em in," Tony told JARVIS, straightening up from his calculations.

The numbers and equations were far beyond Steve's range, but he was getting closer to making sense of them. His brain was better with hard facts and strategy than with abstract theorems, but he was trying. Either way, he was determined to help Tony in any way he could.

Bruce was gone, but he didn't have to stay that way.

Thor strolled into the lab, making Tony flinch as he brushed carelessly by tables of delicate equipment. "Greetings!" Thor said.

"Hey Thor. Thor's lady-friend," Tony said.

"This is Jane!"

Jane gave them a small wave, and Steve stood to shake her hand. "Steve Rogers," he introduced himself. "Thor talks about you all the time."

"I've heard of you too," Jane said, smiling wryly. "It's still weird to see my boyfriend and his friends on the news all the time."

"Did Thor bring you to New York to see the sights?" Steve asked politely, though his mind was drifting back to his latest conversation with Tony. Was this why Tony seemed so distracted all the time? Did he have equations and hypotheses running through his mind all the time?

"Actually, Thor thought I could help you out," Jane said. "He explained what you're trying to do."

"My lady Jane is a brilliant scientist!" Thor told them.

"And I specialize in portals," Jane said. "I usually operate within our own universe, but the theory should extend across the multiverse, assuming Batman's world is comparable to ours."

"It is," Steve said, already grinning. "Thank you!"

"Happy to help! This is the sort of thing I live for," Jane said. She cast a sweet look sideways at Thor. "One of the things."

"Do you require my assistance in this task?" Thor asked them, wrapping his arm around Jane's shoulder and embracing her lightly.

"We have Captain Rogers for any muscle work," Jane said, pecking Thor's cheek. "Could you go baby-sit Darcy? She was looking at Dr. Banner with that look she gets."

"The look that is a precursor to the application of her contained lightning?"

"I told her not to tase anyone," Jane reassured him. "This was a different look. How I look at you."

"Ah," Thor said. "Then I shall go witness their blooming romance!"

"Just make sure no one starts turning green," Steve told Thor.

Once the demi-god left, Jane immediately fell upon the holographic whiteboard on which Tony had been working, making comments and sounds of approval or hesitance over the various equations. Steve settled back to watch them discuss.

Their team was shaping up to be a force to he reckoned with.

\--

With Jane's knowledge and sharp, innovative mind, it took only two more weeks until they had a completed model they thought might work. It made Steve wonder how much longer it would have taken them to find the solution if Bruce had still been with them, and if Bruce would have made a different decision by that point.

However, the thrill of their knowledge that they had a functional machine was dampened when Jane took another look over the numbers. "Tony, look at this."

Tony glanced at it. "My Tower has plenty of power to sustain it. We might just have to take a bit from the rest of New York too."

"This will black-out the entire city, and fry all the circuits," Jane said.

"So, we're stuck with the same problem as the other side. We've got a machine that can open a portal to an alternate universe. Once."

"I'm sorry," Jane told Steve.

"What does that mean?"

"It means it would be a one-way trip, Cap," Tony said, sighing and stripping off his gloves. "Maybe in a few years we could build something to sustain this kind of energy, but with our tech..."

"I'm not a stranger to one-way trips," Steve said.

Both scientists turned surprised looks at him. "The whole point of this was to bring Bruce back through, let him go between our worlds," Tony said sharply. "I didn't spend all this time to lose another friend instead."

"We wouldn't be able to bring you back, not for a long time," Jane told him. "We don't even know for sure this would take you to the right alternate universe. We tried to focus it using one of Bruce's original batarangs, but it might not be exact."

"And we would never know what happened to you," Tony added.

Steve shook his head. "I've thought about this. Just in case I got stuck there looking for him. If Bruce could come here and blend in with the Avengers, I can certainly try to do the same with the Justice League."

"You don't know anything about his world!"

"I know what he told me. And I know him."

"Steve, this isn't like moving across the ocean to be with your sweetheart. It's not even like Thor coming to Earth to stay with Jane. This will probably be a never-come-back scenario."

Steve looked at Tony, his best friend, and felt an ache deep in his heart. He had made a life for himself in this future, friends and family that he was desperately attached to. But when he was with Bruce, he felt like a better man. Even living with his world's greatest heroes, Bruce was the most amazing person he had ever met. And if he wasn't mistaken, Bruce was better with Steve as well. "I've left my whole life behind and had to start over somewhere new, with no chance of going back. I can do it again."

"That wasn't your choice."

"And this time it is."

The entire team tried to talk him out of it. Tony refused to let him go without having to look his friends in the face and admit that he was leaving, obviously hoping Steve wouldn't be able to go through with it.

However, a Steve with his mind made up was one that could not be put off his course no matter what.

Finally, the day came when Tony couldn't stall any longer.

Steve packed what he could into a large backpack, his shield strapped on top. The team gathered in Tony's lab to bid him farewell.

Thor was the first to pull him into a hug. "Good journeys, Captain. If we do not meet again in this life, we shall feast beyond together!"

Teary-eyed, Jane hugged him as well, and he thanked her for her help. "Just go find your man," she said.

Clint gave him a manly shoulder pat which turned into a gruff hug. "Show 'em how an Avenger crime fights."

"Stay safe," Natasha said as she hugged him, more of an order than a wish.

After a moment of awkward fumbling, Brucey gave him a hug as well. "We'll miss you," he said.

"I'll miss you, too," Steve replied quietly.

Coulson was standing at parade rest by the group, and looked surprised when Steve pulled him into a hug as well. As they parted, Steve smiled and said, "Those signed trading cards will be a lot more after this."

"I wouldn't sell them for the world," Coulson said, clasping his shoulder.

When he got to Pepper and Tony, Pepper stepped forward to hug him, and she was taller than he was in her usual heels. "Go. I'll look after him," she whispered.

"Thank you," Steve said, and then turned to Tony.

After their first meeting, Steve would have predicted being able to call Tony his friend, much less his best friend. But the quick-witted, sharp-tongued inventor had found a place in his heart. He had helped fill the void left by Bucky, but had carved out his own place as well.

"C'mere," Tony said, pulling him into a tight hug.

They embraced for a long moment, neither eager to let go, and then Tony stepped back. "Guess you're off the join the Justice League."

"Guess so."

Tony looked at the machine he was about to activate, and looked at Steve with exaggerated forlorn eyes that couldn't hide his actual sadness. "You realize it's cruel to make your best friend send you through."

"I wouldn't have anyone else pulling that lever," Steve said.

Tony nodded and moved towards the control board. "Hold onto your stars and stripes, Cap. This portal's about to cause the biggest blackout in years. It'll probably be like an invigorating walk for you, but at least pretend to be awed."

"You got it," Steve said. With one last wave to the team, he turned to Tony. "All right. Let's do--"

"Sorry to interrupt," JARVIS said over the intercom to the room at large.

"Sorry. I'll miss you too, JARVIS," Steve said.

"As grateful as I am for the sentiment, that is not why I interrupted." For all that JARVIS was an AI, there seemed to be a note of disbelief in his voice. "Bruce Wayne has just entered the Tower. He is heading for the elevators now."

Steve's jaw literally dropped.

"Bruce is here?" Tony exclaimed.

"That is what I said," JARVIS replied. "Shall I send him up to the main floors or have him join you down here?"

"Here," Steve replied immediately. He looked over at the rest of his team. "Could it really be him?"

"Guess we'll find out," Clint replied.

After a minute of breathless silence, a figure approached, and Steve recognized him immediately through the glass doors. Then, they slid open, and Bruce Wayne entered the room. He was carrying a duffle bag and a backpack, dressed in civilian clothes, but it was Bruce Wayne from head to toe.

Without even realizing what he was doing, Steve crossed the room to stand in front of Bruce. "How are you...? What happened? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Bruce said, voice gruff and to the point. "I got back to my world, to Gotham, and regretted leaving here immediately. So I found a way back. What's going on?" He was looking around the room from the gathered Avengers to the machine in the center of the room.

"I was about to come through to your world," Steve explained.

Bruce usually kept his emotions in check, but now he looked floored. "To my world?"

"I didn't want you to have to leave your world behind, but I didn't want to lose you," Steve said. "What about the Justice League? And Gotham?"

"The League did fine without me. This time, I made sure to set up my company to continue funding them before I left. They understood why I had to leave. And by the time I got back to Gotham, another team had risen to take my place. Batgirl and Robin." Bruce looked thoughtful. "In another life, I could have stayed with them there, worked with a team to look after Gotham. But if I wasn't needed there..."

"You could come back here," Steve finished. "How? We've been working for more than a month here to get this working."

"I reverse-engineered Tony's arc reactor technology. I hadn't seen much of it, so it took me a while. Then I had to find a way to connect to the power of the amulet that sent me here."

"I built one alone in a cave, and it took you this long?" Tony grumbled from behind them.

"I had to make it entirely from scratch. There is nothing similar to arc reactor technology on my world, and certainly no vibranium to increase the efficiency," Bruce replied, smirking.

Tony crossed the workshop to grab Bruce into a hug, and the rest of the team followed suit. It was a strange parallel with the scene that had been occurring only minutes before, but instead of feeling like his heart was breaking, Steve felt as though he was about to begin floating.

"It's been weird without you here, man," Clint told him. "These two have been driving everyone crazy."

Bruce looked at Coulson with hesitation, and then asked the group at large," It's not a problem I came back?"

"Never believe that!" Thor boomed. "We are honored to fight at your side."

"What he said," Natasha agreed.

"The team is more efficient--and happier--when you're here," Coulson told him. "And I know we're all glad that Captain America will be staying here."

They moved the conversation upstairs, Steve taking one more glance behind him at the machine that had almost taken him to another world. He would have done it, but couldn't contain his joy that Bruce had come back here instead.

He just hoped Bruce wasn't regretting his decision now that he knew Steve might have gone there instead.

\--

Tony ordered in a large celebratory dinner, and was able to unlock the liquor cabinets that Pepper had sealed when she had learned of Steve's decision to leave.

It took a while, but the tension that had sunk deep into Bruce's bones again after a few weeks in his old Batman mask began to seep out. In contrast with the easy, cheerful reception he got here, his return to Wayne Manor had been cold. Alfred would always be his mentor, his family, but the mantle of Batman was oppressive there. It was a mantle he was willing to bear before when no one else could, but the arrival of Batgirl and Robin had shown that he had already made a difference in Gotham. There were people willing to fight to keep and further the peace that Bruce had created.

After meeting with them, he realized, despite their youth, that Batgirl and Robin were going to do an amazing job. He had asked Clark and the rest of the Justice League to check in on them and Gotham in his absence, and they told him that they had done so the first time he was gone, and could do it again.

After dinner and a round of Taboo that got unreasonably competitive, the team went their separate ways, leaving Bruce and Steve alone in the living room. It reminded Bruce of their first kiss, and made him wonder if Steve felt as strongly about Bruce as Bruce did about him.

Then again, the soldier had been about to jump through an untested portal to live with him in Gotham.

"You must be tired," Steve said.

"Not too much," Bruce assured him.

Slowly, Steve put his arm behind Bruce's shoulders on the couch, and, after a moment, Bruce leaned against Steve's side.

Steve was tense, however, so Bruce asked, "What?"

"If you had known I was about to come through to your world, would you still have wanted to come here instead? Or would you rather us both be there?" Steve asked.

"The Justice League was my first team, but this is where I feel at home. You were right-- this is where I can be me."

"I'm glad you're here," Steve said into his hair. "You know, we never got to finish our date."

"Are you free tomorrow morning?" Bruce asked, looking up at Steve.

Steve smiled at him. "I'm free until further notice," he said.

And when their lips met, Bruce knew he had been right. This was his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue left!


	9. Epilogue

There was a banging at the door, and both Bruce and Steve bolted upright in bed, already reaching for their weapons.

"Up, up, up!" Clint shouted through the door.

With a groan, Bruce fell back onto the bed. He glanced over at the clock on the bedside table: 6:30 in the morning.

"I wanted to sleep in this morning," Bruce complained. "Now it's just like every other morning."

"We could still go back to sleep," Steve offered, but they were both already sliding out of bed.

"He'd just come back. This is the only way to get him to leave us alone."

"There's your Christmas spirit," Steve said, giving Bruce a quick kiss.

When they arrived in the living room, most everyone else was already gathered. In the corner of the room was the largest tree Tony could purchase, nearly brushing the fifteen foot ceiling even before they had added the angel on top. Despite being less than religious, Tony had refused to have a star put up unless it was red, white, and blue, and Steve was too religious to put his own symbol on top of a Christmas tree.

The presents were a jumbled mess under the tree, an eclectic mix of large packages clearly wrapped by a professional, to strangely-shaped boxes in crinkled paper that were likely the products of Thor or Clint's enthusiasm.

Jane and Thor were settled together in one of the living room's plush armchairs, both wearing robes over their pajamas and wrapped entirely in the other's eyes.

Darcy was curled up beside Brucey on the couch, poking him every time his eyelids drooped. Despite the fact that the scientist was decidedly not a morning person, he was too well-controlled and too in love with Darcy to go green over her prodding.

Natasha was resting in one chair, watching the room with a lazy contentment that reminded Bruce of a cat.

As Bruce and Steve settled onto the couch, Pepper pulled Tony into the room, followed by a triumphant-looking Clint.

"Oh, great, everyone's up," Clint said, making his way towards the tree. "That means we can open presents." He jumped over the foot Bruce stuck out as he walked past.

"Someone bribed my girlfriend into waking me up early," Bruce grumbled.

"If I have to get up on Christmas when I'm not even Christian, I'm not going to be the only one. Besides, it's not like you can complain about how I did it," Darcy pointed out with a wicked smile, making Bruce blush.

"What? That's no fair. Pepper just took away my blankets and pushed me on the floor," Tony whined.

"Catch," Clint said after he had already thrown the gift, leaving it to hit Tony in the head.

"It's too early for this shit," Tony grumbled, grabbing the box off the floor and hugging it in his lap.

Pepper nudged the box and then kissed Tony's cheek. "At least it wasn't a heavy box."

"Don't throw the presents," Steve scolded, "They could be fragile."

Bruce leaned slightly into Steve's side. He would never be one for public affection, but in the Tower he enjoyed being close to the soldier. "If it's fragile, it probably won't last long around here anyway."

"I resent that statement," Tony said.

"You're the worst of everyone. You blow yourself up on a regular basis," Natasha commented. "Also, you're rather talkative for how tired you've been complaining you are."

"That's how my tiredness manifests. No brain-to-mouth filter," Tony said.

"Are you certain you possess one? That is not the first feature with which I would choose to immortalize you in a story or ballad," Thor commented in the kind of back-handed compliment that Bruce had learned that he excelled at.

"He's worse when he's tired," Brucey told him.

Pepper sighed. "All of those international scandals..."

"Are we going to waste all morning talking about Tony talking?" Clint complained. "Open the present, Stark."

They went around for the next hour opening presents. Partway through the process, Tony slipped away and returned with a stack of mugs and a whole coffee machine, so by the end, everyone was more awake.

Presents stacked by their seats, everyone was enjoying the company when Clint announced, "There's snow on the balcony. That means Christmas snowball fight."

At that moment, however, all of their communicators went off simultaneously. "Looks like you're going to get that fight," Steve said as they all got to their feet.

"What kind of villain attacks on Christmas?" Jane asked, looking upset.

"Maybe he's Jewish. And before Captain PC complains, I'm allowed to say that, 'cause I am too," Darcy commented.

"I'm not Captain..." Steve began, but then just sighed. "Anyway. Avengers assemble."

With a slight grin on his face, Bruce suited up, his team by his side. Whichever villain had decided to attack New York that day, they were about to regret it. The Avengers were on their way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, everyone! I hope you had as much fun reading this as much as I did writing it!


End file.
